Together Linked
by Fishy Biscuits
Summary: My take on the creation of the Great Charters, set about 1000 years before the actual Old Kingdom series. Disclaimer - I don't own any of the Shiners or the Old Kingdom.
1. Prologue

_Well, I've finally finished writing this first chapter - it took so much longer than I thought! I would strongly recommend that you read Bound and Broken before this, if you haven't read it already, because a few things might not make sense otherwise._

_This takes place about 1000 years after Bound and Broken._

* * *

Astarael watched the Ferenk sink slowly down into the earth, becoming nothing more than mud and stone, and then looked around. That was the last one in the area, as far as she could see. Her work here was done, for now, and she was glad of it. Imprisoning so many Free Magic creatures always made her feel guilty, no matter how many times she reminded herself that they had all been given the chance to serve the Charter and that it was not her fault that they had refused and then proceeded to wreak havoc upon the areas in which they lived. Millennia ago she had promised herself that she would carry out her duties as this world's protector properly, and she had no intention of breaking that promise again.

She shouldn't have broken it in the first place, she thought to herself, as that all-too-familiar feeling of guilt rose in her once again. It had been almost a thousand years since Orannis had been bound and, although no-one had spoken of that day since the hemispheres that imprisoned the Destroyer had been buried near the Red Lake, Astarael thought about it almost constantly: what she had done, and what she should have done instead. She knew she couldn't be the only one who thought that she should have wielded the sword and broken Orannis; that she should have given up her life to protect her world.

'It should have been me...' she whispered, leaning back against a tree and feeling the inevitable tears begin to well up in her eyes again. That thought, and the terrible guilt that accompanied it, never left her and often made her break down in tears. When that happened, any Free Magic creatures she had been pursuing would take that chance to slip away from her and warn any others of their species that were nearby. Astarael had heard what some of them had said. 'Weeper,' they called her now.

Yrael did nothing to improve her mood either. Mostly, he deliberately avoided her, and on the few occasions that Astarael saw him, he would only speak to her when it was absolutely necessary. Astarael could not bear the way he constantly glared at her and sarcastically addressed her as 'mistress,' so she eventually stopped calling on him all together. He probably preferred it like that, anyway.

She tried not to think of Yrael as she flew back to the mountains in the form of a small, grey moth. Instead, she tried to concentrate on the land beneath her and her connection with every living thing there. As she flew over a human town, she felt one life end and, at the same time, another life begin. She felt these things several times each day, but she still experienced a small stab of sadness for every life that ended and a sense of joy for every one that began. Sometimes, she would not to return to her mountain home for days on end, choosing to enjoy the peace she felt as she flew over her world instead. Just the tiniest memory of how close she had come to losing it, all those years ago, made her feel sick with shame.

Astarael alighted just outside the passage that led deep into the mountains, resumed her human form, and leant against the mountainside, trying once again to rid herself of that overwhelming guilt. She stared down at the silver bracelet on her wrist, hoping to find some comfort from the Charter marks that swarmed all over the metal, but she found none. The Charter marks were not there. They had simply vanished, and the bracelet was now just plain silver.

Another tear rolled down Astarael's cheek. This was not the first time the Charter marks had disappeared like that. It had been happening ever more frequently over the past thousand years, and Astarael was not surprised to find that they had gone again. She looked up from the bracelet and concentrated on trying to reach the Charter, even though she knew it would be useless: every time the Charter marks on her bracelet disappeared it felt as if the entire Charter had gone too, as if it no longer existed, and it left an empty feeling inside her.

She had never told anyone about this. Not even Kibeth, with whom she had once shared everything. It would only make them hate her more, she reminded herself, whenever she was tempted to tell someone. They would not understand; Astarael barely understood it herself. She knew it had started when Orannis had tried to sever her from the Charter, only moments before he had been bound. He had not managed to completely separate her from it, but Astarael knew that part of her was no longer a part of the Charter. If she told anyone, she would be permanently separating herself from them, and she didn't want that to happen. It was her secret, and that was how it would stay.

Sighing, she turned and started down the steps, into the mountain, trying not to notice that the Charter marks in the stone disappeared when she passed by them, and then reappeared once she had gone. She hated having to keep such a big thing secret, but she felt that she had no choice. She was not the only one to have kept an important secret, she knew, her mind unexpectedly recalling the moment when Mosrael had revealed a secret of her own.

* * * * * *

_It had been only a few days since the hemispheres had been buried, and Astarael had shut herself away in her private room to hide the disappearance of the Charter marks on her bracelet. They had returned only a short time after they had vanished then, and she had just decided to leave her room. Dyrim, Mosrael, Kibeth and Belgaer were speaking quietly to each other in Dyrim's room. Ranna was, predictably, not with them. She had not left her room since she had returned to the mountains after the binding. She had been very close to Saraneth, and it was generally acknowledged that she need some time alone. As she neared Dyrim's private room, Astarael had overheard part of their conversation. _

'_It would not have made any difference,' Mosrael was saying softly. 'Even if we had done the binding when we first knew the Destroyer was here, she still would have died.'_

'_You can't know that,' Belgaer answered._

'_It was her choice,' Mosrael continued carefully. 'She knew what would happen to her as soon as she had finished creating the binding spell we used.'_

'_How do you know?' Dyrim asked, her voice unusually quiet. 'She never gave even the slightest hint–'_

'_I knew what would happen as well,' Mosrael interrupted softly, staring at the floor. Dyrim, Kibeth and Belgaer all stared at her._

'_You knew?' Dyrim whispered disbelievingly. 'How?'_

'_I... It is a little hard to explain,' Mosrael answered, frowning slightly. 'It was shortly before Astarael brought Yrael to us. I was coming up with a few more Charter marks when I... I don't know exactly what happened, but it felt as though I was dreaming. I started seeing all of us, performing the binding spell, and then I saw her using the sword and I... I saw what happened to her._

'_The vision, or whatever it was, worried me so I started heading back towards my room. On my way, I passed her room and I saw her sitting on her bed. She looked upset about something, and so I asked her if she was alright. Of course, she told me that everything was fine, but then I told her about my vision and she went quiet and told me that, if everything went according to her plan when we bound the Destroyer, that was exactly what should happen.'_

'_Why did you not tell us?' Kibeth asked, still staring at Mosrael in shock._

_Mosrael sighed sadly. 'She made me promise not to tell anyone else what I knew. I told her that you should know, to save you some of the shock if nothing else, but she was set on keeping it a complete secret. She also made me swear to stop anyone helping her once she had begun the breaking. I suppose she had guessed that Ranna would try and do something. I wanted to tell you, but I had no choice. You know what she's... what she was like.'_

* * * * * *

Astarael sighed sadly and continued towards her room. Every now and again, she looked down at her bracelet to see if the Charter marks had reappeared, but they had not. She crossed the narrow stone bridge over the Ratterlin, and lightly touched the door at the end of it. For a moment, she wondered whether it would open for her; the Charter spell imbedded in the door might vanish as she touched it, but it did not. She felt the door recognise her, although it did not seem a particularly friendly recognition anymore, and then it swung open. Astarael walked through it, and then it slammed shut behind her, sending a gust of wind blowing through her long, raven hair. She took a deep breath to stop any more tears from falling, and in that breath, she caught the unmistakeable, fragrant scent of rosemary. It washed over her completely, even as she tried to work out where the scent was coming from. She had gotten rid of that sprig of rosemary, hadn't she?

Clearly, she realised, she had not. And why should she? After all, it was hers. A tiny part of her started calling to her, telling her to stop thinking about it. She knew what would happen next; it had happened before, the last time she had smelt the rosemary, and she didn't want it to happen again. She walked swiftly across the chamber and spoke the Free Magic spell that revealed the doorway. Then, she passed through the door quickly and started towards her private room. She could hear the others talking to each other in another room, but she didn't stop to listen to what they were saying. They would be creating more Charter marks and spells, Astarael knew, although she could see no reason for it. There were far too many stupid Charter marks already in existence.

_Stop it_, part of her said. _Stop it, and go and tell one of them what is happening to you._ But why should she? None of them would bother listening to her. They hated her. They no longer cared about what she did or how she felt. They were all wrapped up in their little bubble of Charter magic, from which they were deliberately excluding her. Orannis hadn't been like that. He had cared about her, and wanted her to be with him. Now he was gone, and it was because of them. Them, and their stupid Charter...

'Stop it!' she whispered to herself, shaking her head to try and clear her head, but it didn't work. The scent of rosemary was clouding her mind, as it had before. She started running towards the door of her room, trying to ignore the thoughts that were passing through her head. She shouldn't be thinking like this. It was wrong and she knew it, but she couldn't help it.

'Astarael!' Kibeth called from the end of the passageway. 'You're back! Why don't you come and join us?'

_Don't answer her_, Astarael thought to herself. _You don't know what you'll end up saying. Don't answer._

'Astarael?' Kibeth had run after her and caught up, and she now stood directly in front of her.

'Leave me alone, Kibeth,' Astarael mumbled, not trusting herself to say anything more. Without looking at Kibeth, she tried to push past.

Kibeth laughed and stepped closer to her. 'You always want to be on your own. We are making more Charter marks at the moment. Come and be with us for once, and help us make them. Belgaer has thought of some more that we haven't made yet, and we think we will have finished it once they are done.'

'Why would I want to do that?' Astarael asked harshly.

Kibeth picked up on the tone in Astarael's voice and her smile faltered. 'Are you alright?' she asked, looking genuinely concerned.

'Of course I am!' Astarael snapped.

'Then why won't you–'

'Because I don't want to,' Astarael said shortly. Belatedly, she noticed that, as Kibeth had walked towards her, she had been walking backwards, and now she was just outside the room that Kibeth had emerged from. She could see Ranna, Belgaer, Dyrim and Mosrael in the room. They all saw her at the same time and smiled, but Astarael didn't see that. All she could see was the non-existent hate in their eyes. They didn't want her there. They never had. Orannis had been the only one who had wanted her.

'What don't you want to do?' Dyrim asked, gesturing for Astarael to enter the room.

'She says she doesn't want to help us finish off the Charter,' Kibeth answered, before Astarael could respond.

Astarael gave a short laugh. 'I do not want to help you finish the thing that imprisoned the one being who actually loved me.'

Silence greeted her words. They all stared at Astarael in the same way a group of humans would stare at someone who had suddenly sprouted an extra head.

'Please, say you did not mean that,' Kibeth said softly.

Astarael stared at her steadily. 'I meant every word of it.'

'Surely, you can't still...' Dyrim began. Then she looked at Astarael's expression. 'How can you? After everything that happened?'

'I know,' Astarael answered sharply. 'How can I stand looking at you? Any of you. I don't know why I ever listened to you.'

'You don't know what you're saying,' Belgaer said, trying to stay calm. 'You are not yourself.'

'I know exactly what I am saying,' Astarael retorted.

Dyrim reached out and grabbed her by the arm. 'What has gotten...' she trailed off as she saw Astarael's bracelet, immediately noticing the lack of Charter marks, and she let go of Astarael's wrist in shock. 'What has happened to you?'

'It would seem that I have finally seen sense,' Astarael answered.

'It seems that you have lost it, actually,' Dyrim cut in. She looked Astarael straight in the eye. 'Answer me. What has happened to you? Why have the Charter marks on your bracelet gone?'

'I never wanted them there in the first place,' replied Astarael flatly. 'I was tricked into agreeing with you.'

'That is not true,' Mosrael said quickly. 'We all know that.'

'It is true,' Astarael snapped. 'Why would I agree to be a part of something that is only good for imprisoning others for no reason? I am not just speaking of Orannis. What about Yrael? What about the thousands of others we have "dealt with?" It's not right! It–'

'Maybe Saraneth should have done the same to you as she did to Yrael,' Dyrim snapped.

'She would not have dared,' Astarael replied confidently, although she remembered how she had feared that in the past. 'I am this world's protector. If she had done that to me, I would not be able to do my job.'

'You weren't doing it at the time, anyway,' Dyrim answered sharply. 'You were quite happy to let this world burn. If Saraneth hadn't–'

'All she was doing was trying to take over, as she always did. I was in complete control of everything, so she didn't need to... But at least she got what she deserved.'

Silence met her words, then Ranna made a noise that was half-way between a gasp and a sob, pushed past Astarael and ran from the room. A moment later Belgaer followed her, calling her name. Dyrim, Mosrael and Kibeth stayed glaring at Astarael.

'How dare you?' Dyrim said, her voice now softly furious. 'How dare you say that?'

'I am only being honest,' Astarael replied.

Mosrael came and stood very close to Astarael. 'What has gotten into you?'

'I...' Astarael was about to reply, but then she faltered. Her mind had suddenly cleared, and she knew without looking that the Charter marks had returned to her bracelet. As she realised what she had just said, her hand flew to her mouth in horror. 'I didn't...'

'Get out of here,' Dyrim said coldly.

Astarael didn't need telling twice. Feeling the tears start to pool in her eyes, she fled down the stone passageway, into her room, and closed the door behind her. Then, she slid slowly down the wall until she was sitting on the floor, and buried her head in her arms as the tears took her over. They would never forgive her for what she had said, she knew. They may not have hated her before but they surely did now and, Astarael thought, they were right to.

After a while she looked up. Crying would not take back the awful things she had said. She ran one hand through her hair as she attempted to calm herself down, and frowned as her hand touched something hard and plant-like, caught in the ends of her hair. She took hold of it and looked at it, puzzled. It was the sprig of rosemary that Orannis had given her. She recognised it instantly. Glaring at it, she drew a short series of Charter marks with one hand. The marks became a short, silver knife and, in one quick motion, she sliced through the section of her hair that was tangled with the rosemary.

'I hate you...' she whispered, staring and the sprig in her hand. She visualised the Charter mark for fire and whispered its name at the same time. Instantly, the rosemary burst into flames and, within seconds, was nothing more than a small pile of blackened ash.

Astarael let the ash fall from her palm, and then took a deep breath. Outside her room, she could hear the others talking, and her sharp ears picked up their words.

'Are you sure she's not there?' Dyrim was asking.

'Yes,' Belgaer answered. 'I thought she would have gone to her room, but it was empty when I got there.'

'Where else could she be?' asked Kibeth, sounding uncharacteristically serious.

'I don't know,' said Belgaer quietly.

'Neither do I,' added Mosrael.

'Could she have left?' Dyrim asked. 'I mean, none of us actually saw where she went, so we cannot be sure that she is still here, in the mountains, at all.'

'If that is the case, she could be anywhere,' Belgaer replied. 'I think we should go and look for her.'

'I agree,' Dyrim added. 'Let's go. It will probably be best if we split up to search.'

'What should we do about..?' Kibeth asked, and Astarael was sure she was indicating her closed door.

'Leave her,' Dyrim replied flatly. 'Come on.'

Astarael listened as they walked away, and then slowly opened her door. This was her fault, she knew. She failed to control herself, and now Ranna had left. Almost unconsciously, she started walking slowly along the passageway, following the others. The least she could do now was help to find Ranna. She wanted to do something good, for once.

* * *

_I really hope that made sense. I've been told that it does, but I know I might have written it in a slightly confusing way. Astarael is a little mixed up, anyway. The next chapter will introduce some new characters (humans!), and hopefully will be up relatively soon. (I'm going to try not to have month-long gaps between chapters this time!)_

_Please review! I'm open to constructive criticism, if anyone wants to give any, but if you didn't like it, please don't flame!_


	2. Chapter 1: Sleepbringer

_Thanks to everyone who reviewed! Now let's see where Ranna's got to..._

_I forgot to put a disclaimer on the last chapter, so... I don't own any of the Shiners, or some of the names that are used in the rest of this fic. I don't own any of the places either. All Garth Nix's. ;-)_

* * *

Chapter 1 - Sleepbringer

When Ranna awoke, she found herself lying in a soft, warm bed. Sitting up, she began to wonder where she was. The room she was in was dark, only lit by flickering candlelight, but Ranna could see that the walls were hung with decorative cloths, and heavy curtains covered the window. She slipped quietly out of the bed and peered through a gap in the curtains. It was dark outside, probably about mid-evening, but she could tell that the view from the window was unfamiliar.

The sound of the door opening made Ranna turn around and she saw a young woman enter the room, carrying a bowl of water and a white cloth.

'Oh! You are awake, Miss,' the woman remarked in surprise when she saw Ranna standing by the window. 'It might not be a good idea for you to be out of bed just yet.' She crossed to Ranna and made her sit back down on the bed. 'How are you feeling, Miss?'

'I am fine,' Ranna answered, growing gradually more irritated as the woman tried to make her lie down. 'Who are you?'

'Imayne, Miss,' the woman replied with a friendly smile. 'I am one of the healers here.'

'Where is "here"?'

Imayne laughed. 'This is Belisaere,' she answered, as if it were obvious. 'You are in one of the guest rooms of the palace.'

'How did I get here?' Ranna asked. The last thing she could remember was falling asleep on a grassy hillside.

'King Anstyr and his guards found you on their way back from a hunt yesterday afternoon,' Imayne explained. 'The King was worried about you, so he brought you here. Might I ask for your name, Miss?'

'Ranna,' Ranna answered shortly. 'Why would the king be worried about me?'

'You were unconscious, and you have been so for a whole day,' Imayne replied, sitting down on the chair beside Ranna's bed.

'I was not unconscious,' Ranna said indignantly. 'I was merely asleep.'

Imayne raised her eyebrows dubiously. 'You must be a very deep sleeper, then. But why were you sleeping outside, Miss, if you don't mind my asking? It is not safe to be out on your own and unprotected, especially at night and in the winter. You might have caught a chill, and Free Magic creatures come out when it's dark. You do not want to meet one of them when you're alone.'

Ranna blinked. 'Why not?'

Imayne looked at her incredulously. 'You are not afraid of Free Magic creatures?'

'Of course not,' Ranna replied. 'I…' She stopped herself and looked at Imayne's expression. 'You are?'

'It is only common sense to be afraid of them. The guards here have been specifically trained to stop any Free Magic creatures entering the city.'

Ranna raised her eyebrows. 'I see.'

'Where have you come from?' Imayne asked suddenly. She had already assumed that Ranna was a member of some noble family, as had the King when he had found her, but it was clear that she was from nowhere nearby. The King knew almost all the noble families in his kingdom, and he had not recognised her.

'Somewhere in the north,' Ranna replied, imbuing her words with a subtle Charter spell that would stop Imayne noticing that her answer was incredibly vague. She felt bad about it – Imayne was asking a perfectly reasonable question – but it was necessary. 'Why do you want to know?'

'I have been instructed to find out, Miss, so a message can be sent there, just so no-one worries about you,' Imayne replied.

'That won't be necessary,' Ranna answered quietly.

'Why not?' Imayne asked, surprised. 'Surely, someone will be wondering where you are? Your parents?'

Ranna shifted a little. 'I lived with... my sisters. I am sure they will not worry.'

Imayne couldn't ignore the tone in Ranna's voice, but she decided against asking anything more. Instead, she reached out to feel Ranna's forehead with her hand.

'You are still a little feverish,' she commented. 'I have been trying to cool you down ever since you were brought here, but nothing seems to have worked yet.'

Ranna frowned. She wasn't able to catch illnesses. 'I do not have a fever,' she said. 'I feel completely well. I have always been a little warmer than usual,' she added, noticing Imayne's sceptical expression.

'Are you sure, Miss?' Imayne asked. 'You feel a little too warm to me.'

'I am fine,' insisted Ranna. 'You look tired. Should you not be resting now? I thought hu… people... needed to sleep at night.'

Imayne sighed wearily. 'I am a little worn out,' she admitted, 'but I have to see to Queen Merenne now. She is eight months gone with child and the baby's kicking has been keeping her awake for days. Myself and the other healers have tried every remedy we can think of to try and help her, but nothing has had much effect so far. We are running out of ideas, if I am honest, but we have to keep trying. I will come back to check on you once I have seen to the queen.'

Ranna nodded and watched Imayne leave, then she relaxed against the pillows. She found that she quite liked Belisaere already, even though she had only really seen this one room. If she acted like a human, Ranna thought, she might be allowed to stay, although she assumed that the king would be the one to decide that. A thought suddenly came to her, and she got out of the bed and hurried out of the room.

'Imayne!' she called, quickly catching up with the healer.

Imayne turned and was surprised to see Ranna so close behind her. 'Mistress Ranna! Is everything alright?'

'Yes,' Ranna answered. 'I have just had a thought. I have a small talent for singing people to sleep, and I was thinking, since you said you were running out of ideas to help the queen, maybe I could try that?'

'Singing people to sleep?' Imayne repeated sceptically. She hesitated for a while, and then shrugged her shoulders. There was something about Ranna that she immediately trusted. 'I suppose I could let you try. We _are_ running short of ideas, after all. Come with me.'

Ranna started to follow Imayne, but then she paused. 'How am I supposed to act in front of the queen?' she asked hesitantly. 'I haven't been in a place like this before – a royal palace, I mean – and the last thing I want to do is say or do something wrong or inappropriate.'

Imayne laughed. 'I am sure you will be fine. I expect you will find most things very similar to how they are at your home. You will just need to remember to curtsey in front of the king, the queen, and the king's two sisters.'

Ranna nodded, and then followed Imayne out of the room and through several corridors, until they reached the double doors that lead to the queen's birthing room. The two guards flanking the doors stood aside to let them pass – Ranna thought it odd that they did not ask who she was – and Imayne softly opened the door. She led Ranna into a dark, richly decorated room, with a comforting fire glowing in the fireplace opposite an ornate four-poster bed. Queen Merenne lay on the bed and, as Imayne had said, she was very obviously pregnant.

'Imayne,' the Queen said wearily, smiling when she saw the healer.

'Good evening, your Majesty,' Imayne answered, curtseying.

Merenne looked at Ranna, who was standing beside Imayne, trying to see exactly how to curtsey. 'Who have you brought with you?'

'This is Mistress Ranna,' replied Imayne. 'The young woman his Majesty found yesterday afternoon. She says she may be able to help you, if you would be willing to let her try. She has told me that she has a talent for singing people to sleep.'

Merenne raised her eyebrows sceptically for a moment and then smiled again. 'I am willing to try anything that may work,' she said, placing a hand to her belly and wincing as her baby kicked again. 'Go ahead, Mistress Ranna.'

Ranna gave a small curtsey, hoping that she had done it right, and sat down on the chair beside the bed. Imayne watched her without bothering to hide her curiosity. Ranna took a deep breath, and then she started to sing, her sweet voice washing over the queen like a wave of soft, refreshing water. Merenne wanted to listen to the whole song, but her eyelids were drooping already and she didn't have the energy to lift them. Within seconds, she was asleep.

After a while, Ranna stopped singing and looked around for Imayne. She was sitting by the glowing fire, and she too was fast asleep. Ranna stared at her for a while, and then walked silently to her and gently shook her shoulder.

'Imayne!' she whispered. 'Wake up!'

Imayne stirred and slowly opened her eyes. She looked at Ranna for a moment, puzzled as she tried to wake up properly and work out where she was. Then she suddenly remembered that she was in the royal bedchamber, and she stood up quickly, straightening her skirt. Her eyes wandered to the bed, where Merenne was deep in a much-needed sleep, and then back to Ranna.

'Incredible!' she exclaimed under her breath. 'It really worked! You even made me sleep too!'

Ranna smiled, then she and Imayne headed for the doors and quietly left the room. As they walked back along the passageway, a richly-dressed man turned a corner and started walking towards them, and Imayne instinctively dropped into a curtsey. Ranna quickly did the same, and she assumed that this man was the king. King Anstyr, she remembered Imayne telling her.

'Your Majesty,' Imayne said quietly as the king neared them.

'Imayne,' he replied, motioning for both women to rise from their curtseys. 'Is my wife well?'

'She is, Sire,' Imayne answered. 'She is sleeping now.'

'Sleeping?' Anstyr asked, clearly surprised.

'Yes, your Majesty. Mistress Ranna has an extraordinary talent for singing people to sleep,' Imayne explained.

Anstyr looked at Ranna and nodded. 'You have my thanks, Lady Ranna,' he said. 'My wife has been much in need of sleep for a long time. I am sure that she also will be grateful when she wakes.'

Ranna curtseyed again, but didn't say anything. She didn't know what sort of reply would be appropriate. The curtsey seemed to be acceptable, at least.

'I bid you good night, ladies,' the King said. Evidently, he had not been expecting Ranna to say much anyway. Ranna and Imayne both curtseyed again, and Anstyr turned another corner and disappeared along the corridor that led to his bedchamber.

'That went very well,' Imayne commented as she started leading Ranna back to her room. 'And I expect the sleep will do the queen some good.'

Ranna nodded, although she had been too busy admiring the paintings she had passed to really listen to Imayne. Presently, they stopped outside the door to Ranna's room and Imayne felt her forehead again.

'You still feel feverish,' she said, frowning, 'but apart from that, you seem to have recovered. I hope you have a good night, Mistress Ranna.'

'You too,' Ranna answered. She watched Imayne walk away, and then she rested her hand against her own forehead, curious as to why Imayne said she was feverish. She didn't feel warm at all. Humans must have an odd perception of temperature, she thought to herself as she lay down on her bed and made herself fall asleep.

* * * * * *

The following morning, Ranna awoke early and was soon out of her bed and admiring the view from her window. Now that it was light, she could see part of a harbour, already bustling with people, and beyond that, the blue-grey expanse of the sea. She was staring at the waves as they crashed against the wooden jetties of the harbour in an almost hypnotic way when she heard a soft knocking at her door.

'Come in,' she called, reluctantly looking away from the sea.

The door opened and Imayne entered the room, smiling in her usual, friendly way and carrying a large, relatively flat box. 'Good morning,' she said brightly. 'I hope you slept well.'

'I did,' Ranna answered, smiling back at her.

'I have just been to see the queen,' Imayne said excitedly, 'and she is looking so much better. She is so grateful to you, and she wishes to meet you so she can thank you in person. She also wanted me to give you this,' she added, passing the box to Ranna, who looked at it with increasing curiosity. 'A gift, to show how grateful she is for what you did last night.'

Ranna set the box down of her bed, removed the lid, and lifted up a long gown of crimson velvet, elegantly embroidered with gold on both the long sleeves, the neckline and around the waist.

'It's beautiful,' Ranna said, admiring the heavy, rich fabric of which the gown was made.

Imayne nodded enthusiastically. 'I will help you put it on, shall I?'

Ranna nodded and Imayne helped her slip on her new gown over the simple, pale gold dress she was already wearing.

'I knew you would look wonderful in it. The colour looks beautiful with your hair,' Imayne commented, circling Ranna so that she could fully admire the dress. 'You have got lovely hair,' she sighed, looking from Ranna's long, golden waves to her own hair and frowning at its mousey colour. 'Would you like me to comb it for you?'

After she had finished brushing Ranna's hair, Imayne led her back to the queen's room. Merenne was awake and sitting up in bed, reading a book. As Ranna and Imayne entered the room and curtseyed, she looked up and placed the book down beside her.

'Good morning,' Merenne said, smiling warmly at them. 'I see you are wearing the gift I sent you, Mistress Ranna.'

'How could I not wear it?' Ranna answered. 'It is such a beautiful gown; I must thank your Majesty for it.'

'I must thank you, Mistress Ranna,' Merenne said. 'I have not slept that well in weeks.' She gestured for Ranna to come closer to the bed, and then continued in a quieter voice. 'Imayne has told me that you do not wish for a message to be sent to your family to tell them where you are. May I ask why this is?'

Ranna hesitated as she thought about how to answer. 'My sisters will not worry,' she replied simply, infusing her voice with the same spell for inattention she had used on Imayne the previous night.

Merenne was curious, but something stopped her pressing Ranna for more details. 'If you do not mind, then, I would like you to remain here in Belisaere for the time being. I am likely to need you to sing for me again tonight and perhaps for most nights until the baby is born.' She gave a light laugh and added, 'You can be my sleep-bringer.'

Ranna copied Merenne's laugh. 'I would very much like to stay here, your Majesty,' she answered.

Merenne smiled. 'Thanks you. May I invite you to sit with me at the feast tonight? I am looking forward to it – I have been too tired to attend any of the feasts this winter.'

'I would be honoured, your Majesty,' Ranna answered, curtseying again.

Merenne nodded. 'I hope you both have a pleasant day.'

Ranna and Imayne curtseyed and left the room. Once they were outside, Ranna asked, 'What is the feast for tonight?'

Imayne stared at her for a moment and then laughed. 'Oh, one of the many feasts that the king holds during the Mid-Winter festival. I can't tell you what they are like – they are only for the people who have been invited, and I have never been honoured with an invitation – but I expect it will be a more extravagant version of the other ones going on all around the city. Would you like me to show you around the city?' she asked, suddenly remembering that Ranna did not know Belisaere at all.

Ranna nodded, and Imayne started to lead her out of the palace. On the way, she stopped to show Ranna the Great Hall, and Ranna couldn't help but admire the intricately decorated walls, the gilt-framed portraits, and the ornate carvings of the royal family's crest positioned above every set of double doors.

'This is where the feast will be held this evening,' Imayne told her. 'And, in just over a week, there will be a dance to mark the end of the festival. You will be invited, of course, although I expect the queen will be resting still. That will be held in the main courtyard. Would you like to see it?'

After viewing the main courtyard and the impressive fountains nearby, Imayne led Ranna down Palace Hill and into the main part of Belisaere. Despite the winter chill, the city was crowded with people enjoying the ongoing Mid-Winter festivities: buying and selling various goods, sampling a variety of foods from all over the kingdom, watching entertainers, dancing... On Ranna's request, Imayne took her down to the sea and showed her the harbour. As it started to grow darker and colder, they walked back up to the palace for the evening feast. As Imayne had said, the Great Hall was full of people and Ranna was glad when she caught sight of Merenne, who led her to the raised table at the front of the Hall where the royal family sat with their chosen guests.

* * * * * *

For the next week, Ranna thoroughly enjoyed being in Belisaere. Each day, she and Imayne explored the various stalls and exhibits, all set up purely for the Mid-Winter festivities. Imayne always found or remembered something she had forgotten to show Ranna before and, very quickly, they became close friends. Ranna also developed a good friendship with Merenne, who asked her to sing her to sleep every night. As a result, Ranna found herself being invited to sit with the royal family at every evening feast, whether Merenne was there or not. The Great Hall was always packed with people, and, while Ranna enjoyed the constant partying that went on during the day, she always looked forward to returning to the quiet, peacefulness of her room in the evenings.

Or she _did_, until one evening, the day before the Mid-Winter festival ended, when she walked into her room and found five instantly-recognisable women in there, four of them sitting quite comfortably on her bed.

* * *

_Hope you liked it. Please review!_


	3. Chapter 2: The MidWinter Dance

_Thanks to those who reviewed! On with chapter 2..._

* * *

For a while, Ranna just stared at them. Then, she closed the door behind her, locked it, and whispered, 'What are you doing here? I sincerely hope no-one has seen you.'

'No-one has seen us,' Dyrim assured her. 'As for why we are here, I would have thought it was obvious: we came to find you. We have been looking for you for ages. Mosrael was trying to See where you had gone, but she didn't See anything useful until this morning.'

'And, since you are staying here for now, we will stay with you,' Mosrael announced with complete certainty. Dyrim, Kibeth and Belgaer nodded in agreement, but Astarael looked more than a little anxious, and she refused to look Ranna in the eye.

'You can't just decide to stay,' Ranna explained. 'King Anstyr decides that. Anyway, I don't think you would like it here. You would have to act like a human all the time.'

'Why?' asked Kibeth.

'The people here are afraid of Free Magic beings.'

'You have been living like a human all this time?' Belgaer exclaimed incredulously.

Ranna nodded, and Dyrim grinned. 'So, when are you going to introduce us to the King?' she asked eagerly. 'I am sure he will love us as soon as he meets us, and then he will let us stay with you.'

'I suppose you could come to the Mid-Winter dance tomorrow afternoon,' Ranna sighed, although she was already dreading this meeting. At least one of them was sure to do something that gave away their true nature, and Ranna was currently betting on either Dyrim or Kibeth. 'Although that is potentially problematic. None of you know how to act like a human.'

'You can teach us,' Kibeth said, also grinning.

Ranna sighed heavily. She knew it was pointless to argue, and so she resigned herself to the fact that she would soon be instructing her friends on the arts of eating, dancing, and acceptable conversation. She could already tell that it was not going to be an easy task.

* * * * * *

The next afternoon, after instructing the others on what to wear, Ranna led the way to the main courtyard. They were a little late, and the dancing was already in full swing when they arrived. Merenne was not there – she was still resting in her birthing room – but Anstyr was busy dancing with an elegant-looking blonde woman. He spotted Ranna quickly and smiled at her, and when the dance ended he came straight over to talk to her.

'Mistress Ranna, I was beginning to wonder where you were!' he said cheerily.

Ranna curtseyed. 'I was greeting my sisters, your Majesty,' she answered, indicating the group behind her. 'They have... impulsively... decided to visit me here. I hope you do not mind.'

'Of course not! You must introduce me to them,' Anstyr replied. 'I hope they have not come to tell you to go back to your home. You are much needed here. If they wish, they can stay here with you.'

'I told you we would be staying,' Mosrael muttered to the others, so quietly that Ranna only just heard and Anstyr didn't hear at all.

Ignoring Mosrael's comment, and hoping that none of them would do or say anything inappropriate, Ranna led Anstyr to them. They all curtseyed in front of him, as Ranna had told them to, but Dyrim seemed set on keeping a slightly flirtatious smile on her face.

'So, I have the pleasure of meeting Ranna's sisters,' Anstyr said, nodding in greeting. 'I welcome you to Belisaere. How do you like my city so far?'

'Truly, Sire,' Dyrim answered smoothly, 'we have never seen a more beautiful place. It is everything we had heard, and more.'

Anstyr smiled in satisfaction. 'Might I ask you for your names?'

'I am Dyrim,' Dyrim replied, 'and this is Belgaer, Kibeth, Mosrael and Astarael.'

'I am delighted to meet you all,' Anstyr said, nodding. 'Would you care to sit with us at the feast this evening?'

'We would be honoured, Sire,' Dyrim answered, curtseying again and giving Anstyr a dazzling smile.

'Good,' the king replied. He smiled appreciatively at Dyrim and offered her his arm. 'May I have the next dance?'

Dyrim agreed a little too eagerly, and Anstyr led her to the centre of the courtyard. Ranna watched them closely, but Dyrim didn't put a foot wrong – neither in the dance nor in terms of her manners.

'Are we actually meant to eat this evening, then?' Kibeth whispered to Ranna. 'I mean, we don't need to, so is there any point in having anything cooked for us?'

'If you want to stay here, yes,' Ranna whispered back. 'You will probably enjoy eating, anyway.' She looked around and noticed something. 'Where has Astarael gone?'

Kibeth lowered her voice so that only Ranna could hear. 'She can't speak a word to anyone here, so she decided it would be safer if she left for a while.'

'Why?' Ranna asked suspiciously. 'Might she still have another one of those supposedly uncontrollable outbursts?'

'It is possible,' Kibeth answered. She hesitated a little, then sighed and explained. 'While we were searching for you, Astarael asked a group of humans we met if they had seen you and they all died, just like that. We don't know why, but it looks like it is just her voice that has that effect. When the rest of us speak to humans, nothing odd happens unless we want it to.'

Ranna stared at Kibeth as though she had gone mad. 'And you thought it would be a good idea to bring her here?'

'I didn't think it was fair to just leave her behind. After all, she is still one of us.'

'Are you sure she will be able to keep quiet all the time?' Ranna asked, choosing not to comment directly on what Kibeth had said.

'I think she can,' Kibeth replied, 'though I don't think any of the others do. She told me she probably won't be here much anyway. Apparently there are still some Free Magic creatures to sort out.'

Ranna nodded. 'I see.'

Their conversation stopped when the dance finished and Dyrim practically skipped back to them. 'That was fun!' she exclaimed. 'I want to do it again!'

'You have to wait for someone else to ask you,' Ranna explained. She looked at the rather flattering magenta gown Dyrim had dressed herself in and added: 'Someone should ask you shortly, especially now that you have danced with the king.'

'Those two men seem rather interested in you,' Mosrael said, indicating a couple of well-dressed men.

Dyrim glanced at the men who were, very obviously, staring. Seeing her looking back, one of the men started talking very loudly about how wonderful his estate was back in some city, and the other man countered by mentioning how much money he had amassed over the years. Their argument stopped briefly when another man asked Dyrim to be his next dance partner, and then they started accusing each other of spoiling their chances of dancing with her.

Anstyr asked Ranna to be his partner for the next dance – although Ranna had seen him fight the temptation to ask Dyrim for a second time – and as they took their places Ranna glanced over her shoulder. Mosrael was just walking away from the group, escorted by one of the men who had previously been interested in Dyrim, and Kibeth and Belgaer had both been approached by other men. Ranna tried to watch them all and dance at the same time, but after almost tripping over, she decided to just trust them all to behave properly.

* * * * * *

That evening, once the dancing was over, everyone filed into the Great Hall for the final – and largest – Mid-Winter feast. Astarael reappeared discreetly beside Kibeth just as Ranna quietly reminded them of how to behave during a meal, and then led them to the long, raised table at one end of the hall where Anstyr was already sitting with two other people.

'May I introduce my sister, Lady Nehima, and her daughter, Miss Aveline,' Anstyr said, indicating the two other people already sat at the table – the blonde woman he had danced with earlier, and a young blonde girl. 'I took the liberty of telling them your names already.'

'It's good to finally meet you all,' Nehima said, smiling warmly. 'I hope you enjoyed the dance.'

'We did,' Dyrim replied, seating herself beside Ranna. 'It was certainly a new experience – we didn't do much dancing at home.'

'You didn't?' Nehima asked, mildly surprised. 'Well, from what I saw, you are all talented dancers.'

Dyrim smiled. 'We are quick to pick up new things.'

'_Most_ new things,' Ranna muttered to herself, noticing that Dyrim had already forgotten how to address members of the royal family properly.

Nehima was about to say something else when a dark-haired young woman hurried up to the table and sat down on Anstyr's other side, grinning apologetically.

'This is my other sister, Lady Arael,' Anstyr explained, trying his best not to look annoyed. 'Please excuse her lateness.'

'Sorry,' Arael said, without any trace of sincerity. 'I lost track of the time.'

'Again,' Nehima said irritably. 'You could have made some effort to arrive on time tonight.' She eyed her sister's unruly hair and added, 'And you could have at least tried to look presentable.'

'Ladies,' Anstyr said sternly. 'Please try and be pleasant in front of our guests. Arael, let me introduce Ranna's sisters: Dyrim, Belgaer, Mosrael, Kibeth, and Astarael.'

Arael stopped making a half-hearted attempt at tidying her hair, and smiled cheerily at them. 'Pleased to meet you.' She looked at the empty plates on the table. 'When is the food going to be served?'

'Be patient, Arael!' Nehima sighed. 'The servants will be bringing it to us shortly.'

'Good,' Arael replied. 'I'm starving.'

'Where have you been all afternoon?' Nehima decided to ask. 'I noticed that you were not at the dance.'

Arael looked at her innocently. 'I was at the stables, keeping the horses company.'

'I hope you did not go out riding again, without any guards accompanying you.'

'Of course I didn't,' Arael assured her. 'I'm not allowed. You keep reminding me.'

Nehima sighed. 'That has never stopped you before.'

'Do you two mind not having a petty argument in front of our guests?' Anstyr cut in. 'They cannot be enjoying listening to it.'

'I think they are, actually,' Arael commented, noticing that Anstyr and Nehima were the only ones who were not smiling. 'Even Aveline looks amused.'

Nehima gave her daughter a look that immediately removed the smirk from the young girl's face.

'Our food is arriving,' Anstyr announced, changing the subject as several servants came into the dining hall, carrying large platters of various foods, which they placed down the centre of the raised table. At the same time, another servant came to pour the wine, and then more servants delivered platters to every other table in the Hall. Soon, all the plates were full and the Hall was filled with the buzz of conversation.

'I could get used to eating,' Dyrim remarked, finishing her mouthful of food and drinking a rather large amount of her wine. Ranna gave her a pointed look. 'Like this,' she added quickly.

'We have the best cooks in the kingdom here,' Anstyr told her proudly. 'We always eat well, especially at feasts.'

'Mmm,' Arael agreed through a mouthful of food, which she quickly swallowed before speaking. 'It's just as well, really. I'm always hungry in the evenings.'

'Although no-one knows why,' Nehima added. 'Anyone would think you were doing something a little more active during the day than just practicing your music and tending to your horse – which, may I point out, does not take priority over helping to organise the Festival, like it apparently did yesterday. If his mane really did need to be urgently combed, you could have got one of the stable-hands to do it for you.'

'I thought I told you not to argue,' Anstyr sighed, and then turned to Dyrim, who was having her wine glass refilled for the third time already. 'Am I right in assuming that you would all prefer to have your rooms close to Ranna's?' Anstyr asked.

'Yes, if that is not too much trouble,' Belgaer answered, after it became apparent that Dyrim was far more interested in drinking her wine than in answering the question.

'It will be no trouble at all,' Anstyr replied. 'I will arrange for the servants to prepare your rooms once we have finished eating.'

* * * * * *

'I can see why you wanted to stay here, Ranna,' Kibeth remarked, throwing herself down on the bed in Dyrim's new room.

'So can I,' added Belgaer. 'Although these candles don't light the room up very much.' She stood on the bed and placed a Charter light in the ceiling. 'That is much better.'

'No!' Ranna exclaimed, removing the light just as easily as Belgaer had conjured it. 'You have to act like a human, remember? No magic!'

Belgaer sighed and muttered something under her breath. Ranna thought she caught the words 'stupid humans.'

'I think they like you, fortunately,' Ranna continued. 'Although, Dyrim: don't drink so much wine next time. Humans don't tend to be particularly sensible after eight glasses.'

'Sorry,' Dyrim grinned sheepishly. 'It tastes nice, though.'

'So does the food!' exclaimed Kibeth. 'I could eat all day!'

'Knowing you, you probably will,' teased Belgaer, and she and Kibeth laughed.

'Anyway, I think we should go to sleep soon,' Ranna decided. 'Humans tend to get irritable when they're kept awake all night, and we are talking rather loudly. We are not the only guests staying here, remember.'

'Fine,' Dyrim sighed, pushing Kibeth off the bed and settling herself down on top of the covers. 'Humans are so strange.'

'We slept when we were in the mountains,' Ranna pointed out, as Kibeth left Dyrim's room. 'Why is it so different now?'

'It's not,' Dyrim answered. 'I just think that humans are strange.'

* * *

_Please review!_


	4. Chapter 3: A FarDistant Future

_Thanks to everyone who reviewed! On with the next chapter..._

_Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Shiners or any of the Old Kingdom. Also, I don't own a particular part of this chapter (guess which bit that is!) I do own Arael, however, and the plot line. :-)_

* * *

Mosrael sat bolt upright in her bed, breathing fast. She had imagined that voice, she told herself as she concentrated on slowing her breathing. It was not real. She had just had a nightmare; that was what it had been. Just a nightmare.

But then again, it had seemed so much like the beginning of one of those visions she sometimes had...

Forcing herself to take slow, deep breaths, Mosrael quietly got out of her bed and crept to the door of her room. Kibeth, Dyrim and Belgaer would probably still be awake, but Mosrael didn't want them to know that she was too. They would ask why she was awake, and she didn't think she could give them a suitable explanation.

The words she had heard kept repeating themselves in her head, making her more and more confused as she walked silently through the palace. _'And now another Seven comes, all a-clamour, to lock Orannis once more in metal...'_ Another Seven... But there couldn't be another Seven, Mosrael thought. It wasn't possible. And it had definitely been Orannis' voice she had heard, but that too was impossible. Unless, of course, someone was stupid enough to release him. But no-one would do that... would they?

Melting herself into the shadows, Mosrael made her way to the palace grounds. She needed to find some ice so she could try and See more, if there was more to be Seen. It had rained briefly at some point during the evening, and there were a few half-frozen puddles on the ground, so Mosrael chose one in a dark corner and whispered the names of the Charter marks to fully freeze it, and then muttered another spell to make the ice smooth. Then, she knelt down beside the puddle and stared into it.

The picture came slowly, growing gradually more focused until Mosrael could clearly make out seven people and a dog, all standing in a ring around a sphere of darkness that looked horribly familiar. This was the same scene that had briefly flashed through her mind as she had slept, accompanied by Orannis' unmistakable voice. The dog was instantly recognisable as Kibeth and, although Mosrael could tell that the all the people were human, something about them was strangely familiar too. Each of them held a silver handbell, and Mosrael could feel the individual powers in the metal, although she had no idea of where the bells had come from or how or when they had been created.

Tongues of flame were spreading out from the sphere towards the people in the ring. Then one of them, a young woman with long, raven hair and a Charter-spelled sword resting on her right shoulder, spoke.

'I stand for Astarael against you.'

As she spoke, she drew a Charter mark in front of her which repelled the flames a little, but Mosrael hardly noticed it. She just stared at the girl, a little unnerved by her: she looked practically identical to Astarael, albeit wearing very different clothes.

'I stand for Saraneth against you,' announced another woman, sketching a Charter mark with the tip of her sword. Mosrael couldn't help but stare at this woman too: she was the spitting image of Saraneth.

'I stand for Belgaer against you,' said another voice – a male voice this time. His drew his Charter mark quickly, his grey eyes – very much like Belgaer's – flashing angrily.

'I stand for Dyrim against you,' declared the next person in the ring: another dark-haired young woman, who did remind Mosrael very much of Dyrim.

Kibeth spoke next, but Mosrael didn't pay much attention to what she was saying. Her gaze had already wandered to the next humans in the circle, two blonde women, holding one bell between them. It was like looking in a mirror, Mosrael thought, feeling even more unnerved. They even wore circlets similar to the one of Charter marks on Mosrael's head.

'We stand as one, for Mosrael against you,' the women said in unison, drawing their Charter mark together.

'I am Torrigan, called Touchstone, and I stand for Ranna against you,' the final person in the ring – a man – said. As he drew his Charter mark in front of him, he let the tiny bell he held sound. The two blonde women rand their bell next, then Kibeth began to bark in a steady rhythm. The remaining people swung their bells, and Mosrael instantly recognised the song the combined voices were singing. She felt an urge to join in, but her part was already being sung.

The Charter marks in front of the people glowed brighter, and then expanded, spreading sideways to join together in a silver band around Orannis. The girl with the sword – the one who looked so much like Astarael – spoke the rest of the binding spell, and Mosrael flinched slightly as she heard those words spoken again, painful memories leaping to the forefront of her mind.

The silver ring tightened, and Mosrael pulled herself out of the vision. She could guess the rest, and she didn't want to see it. For several minutes, she just sat on the grass, her eyes closed as the vision replayed itself in her mind. Another Seven. That at least made some sense now, although not enough for Mosrael's liking. She still didn't understand how what she had just Seen was even possible. _There aren't seven of us anymore_, she thought, feeling the stab of pain that always accompanied that thought.

She stared back at the ice, hoping that some other vision would appear and explain everything, but nothing came. Sighing heavily, Mosrael stood up, smoothed her white skirt, and headed back inside the palace. She didn't know whether to tell any of the others about her vision. It would worry them a lot, she knew, but they did had a right to know. Perhaps one of them would be able to make more sense of it. Or perhaps not. And mentioning certain things in front of Ranna would not be a good idea at all. Thinking about it, it would probably be best if she kept it to herself for now. She would tell them, but not yet.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of something smashing and then someone cursing under their breath. The noises came from somewhere nearby and, forgetting that she was not supposed to be wandering around in the middle of the night, Mosrael decided to investigate. She didn't have to look very far: just around the corner, she saw a decorative plant on the ground, a large piece of its porcelain pot broken off and lying next to it. A dark-haired figure stood close to the plant, trying to tug her cloak free from where it had caught on the window frame.

'Lady Arael?' Mosrael whispered as she recognised the person as the king's younger sister, the one who had arrived late to the feast.

Arael whirled around, looking terrified, but she relaxed a little when she saw Mosrael.

'Mosrael!' she whispered back. 'I'm sorry! For a moment, I thought you were my sister!'

'What are you doing?' Mosrael asked, momentarily forgetting that it was probably rude to question the king's sister in this way.

'Sneaking in through a window,' Arael admitted, looking very sheepish. She didn't seem to mind the informality of this exchange.

'I can see that,' replied Mosrael, the corners of her mouth creeping up in an amused smile. 'Why are you sneaking in through a window?'

'I was... um... sleepwalking,' Arael replied, returning to freeing her cloak.

Mosrael raised her eyebrows. 'Do you normally carry a sword with you when you sleepwalk?'

Arael froze and looked down, realising all too late that the sword she wore at her side, previously hidden under her cloak, was now clearly visible.

'Are you going to tell me what you are really doing?' Mosrael asked, easily unhooking Arael's cloak for her.

'Do you promise not to say anything about this to anyone?' Arael asked.

Mosrael nodded, trying to ignore the sudden memory of a similar promise she had made a long time ago. This situation was very different. 'I promise.'

'I was returning from a training session with one of the guards,' Arael explained quietly.

'Why do you train at night?' asked Mosrael. 'Surely, it would be easier to train during the day, when all the guards practise.'

'Anstyr won't allow women to learn swordcraft, so I can't train with them,' Arael replied. 'The training sessions I have are a complete secret. The only people who know about them are myself and Terin, the guard I train with. And you, of course. Please, Mosrael, you can't say anything about this to Anstyr, or Merenne, or Nehima, or anybody.'

'I won't,' Mosrael assured her. 'Your secret is safe with me.'

Arael smiled gratefully, and then bent down to set the plant back in its corner, picking up the broken fragment of the pot and fitting it back into place. Then, she turned the pot around until the broken part was hidden from view and kicked the spilled soil into the shadows.

'What are you doing, if you don't mind me asking?' Arael asked as she straightened up.

'I couldn't sleep,' Mosrael answered, well aware of the fact that this was a poor excuse.

Arael folded her arms across her chest and raised one eyebrow. 'Are you going to tell me what you are really doing?' she asked, echoing Mosrael's earlier question.

Mosrael grinned at her. 'No.'

Arael wondered why she hadn't thought of giving that response herself. 'I told you what I was doing,' she protested as she and Mosrael started to walk along the corridor.

'That was your choice, my lady,' Mosrael replied, still grinning. 'Why don't you ask the king to let you train with the guards properly?'

Arael sighed. 'I did ask. Three years ago, when I first decided that I wanted to learn how to fight. He said no.'

'Have you asked him more recently?'

'No. There wouldn't be any point. I know exactly what he would say: It is not proper for an sixteen-year-old princess to be handling a weapon,' Arael said, imitating Anstyr's voice perfectly.

'I see,' Mosrael replied. 'I take it he would be angry if he ever found about these secret practice sessions you have been having?'

'Definitely,' Arael said, nodding. 'Nehima would be too. Although she never likes anything I do.'

'Such as going out on your horse without taking any guards with you,' Mosrael teased.

'And missing my lessons, and falling asleep in Petty Court, and conveniently forgetting to turn up to Petty Court, and going down to the harbour and coming back soaked with sea-spray, and not bothering to have my hair done properly in the mornings...'

Mosrael laughed. 'I don't think it would suit you to have your hair styled like Nehima has hers.'

'It doesn't,' Arael replied. 'That's why I always leave it loose or just tied back if I need it out of the way.' She paused and frowned. 'I don't usually say things like that to guests,' she commented. She had been very open with Mosrael, telling her things that she never normally told anyone. 'I must apologise if you found me rude.'

'Not at all,' Mosrael replied, smiling. 'I suppose this is a rather unusual situation, anyway.'

'It is,' Arael agreed, then decided to change the subject. 'I hope you don't mind, but Ranna will be seeing to Merenne a lot, now that she is in her final month of pregnancy, so she won't be able to be with you much. If you would like, I could show you and your sisters around the palace tomorrow morning. I would show you the rest of the city as well, but I expect Nehima will want me to sit in the Petty Court with her at some point.' She made a face at that thought.

Mosrael laughed. 'We would love that. Although,' she added, improvising quickly, 'Astarael will probably not be there. She is... um... a little unwell at the moment. She caught a mild chill the day before we arrived here, and I think she would prefer to remain in bed tomorrow.'

'That's a shame,' Arael replied. 'Will she want one of the healers to see her?'

'I don't think so. She just needs to rest and keep warm.'

'If you are sure,' Arael said. She and Mosrael stopped walking as they came to the place where the corridor divided into two: one leading to the royal chambers, and the other to the guest quarters. 'Well, would it be alright if the rest of you met me in the Great Hall after breakfast tomorrow morning?'

Mosrael nodded. 'That is fine.'

'Good,' Arael replied. 'Have a good night, Mosrael.'

'Good night, my lady,' Mosrael answered. Then she turned down the corridor that lead to the guest rooms and, instead of going into her own room, she quietly opened Dyrim's door and slipped inside. As she had expected, Dyrim was wide awake, sitting on her bed and staring at the ceiling.

'What are you staring at?' Mosrael asked.

'I'm wondering whether to put Charter lights in the ceiling,' Dyrim replied. 'Candles really aren't that bright.'

'You know Ranna won't let you do that,' Mosrael said, shaking her head. 'Although I do know what you mean. Charter lights would be a lot better.'

'Belgaer has already put some in her ceiling,' Dyrim commented.

'Ranna won't be happy about that.'

'That's why no-one had told Ranna yet,' Belgaer said, grinning as she slipped into the room.

'So, we are getting a tour of the palace tomorrow, are we?' Dyrim asked eagerly.

'How did you know about that?' Mosrael asked. 'I haven't mentioned it yet.'

'I seem to have developed a talent for reading humans' minds,' Dyrim answered. 'Arael was the only human around who wasn't asleep, and so I decided to–'

'You are so nosey,' Mosrael cut in, rolling her eyes.

'So is Kibeth,' Dyrim pointed out. 'Although I suppose you don't know. She's gone to explore various people's rooms.'

'The royal chambers are the nicest,' Kibeth said brightly, entering the room in her dog form and leaping onto Dyrim's bed, 'but that's to be expected. Nehima's room is far too neat – I keep getting tempted to mess it up for her – and Arael nearly caught me in her room. For some reason she was only just coming in. She keeps a sword under her bed. Did you know that? I saw her put it there.'

'She wants that kept secret,' Mosrael said firmly.

'I think we all know now,' Dyrim shrugged. 'Kibeth hasn't exactly kept it to herself, has she? But we can all keep secrets, so we won't tell any of the humans.'

'Can you be a little quieter?' Ranna asked sleepily, appearing in the doorway. 'And, Kibeth, please don't go into people's private rooms. It's not polite.'

'_I'm_ not polite,' Kibeth grinned, jumping down from the bed and licking Ranna across the face.

'We all know that,' said Dyrim.

'Please, stay in your human forms!' Ranna exclaimed under her breath, pushing Kibeth down and wiping the dog saliva off her face. 'How much trouble do you think we would get into if–'

'I thought the humans would be less suspicious if they saw a dog wandering around than they would if they saw a human. I wouldn't want to end up in a similar situation to the one Mosrael found herself in earlier, when she got caught sneaking around.'

Ranna had a sudden urge to smack her head against the wall. 'No wandering about,' she said firmly. 'Any of you. And, please, remember to be _quiet_! I am trying to sleep!'

'Alright, Ranna, we will be quiet,' Dyrim grinned. 'We know that humans need their sleep.'

She, Kibeth, Belgaer and Mosrael burst out laughing, and Ranna glared at them before returning to her room. She would have countered with something along the lines of 'you have all been acting convincingly human as well,' but she knew full well that she and Astarael were the only ones who had not misbehaved already. And they had only been in Belisaere for one evening! Charter knew how long it would be before someone discovered their secret.

* * *

_Anyone want to guess how long it will be before someone finds out?_

_Please review!_


	5. Chapter 4: Kibeth's Mistake

_Thanks to those who reviewed. On with the next chapter..._

* * *

The next morning, just after Ranna had woken and dressed, there was a knock on her door and, once Ranna had called out, 'Yes?' Imayne stepped into the room.

'Mistress Ranna, the queen has asked me to send for you,' Imayne said. 'She apologises for the fact that it is before breakfast, but she was woken half-way through the night by a noisy gull, and she has been unable to get back to sleep.'

'Very well, I will be with her Majesty shortly,' Ranna nodded, and Imayne left again. Ranna had little doubt as to who that "noisy gull" really was, and she made a mental note to have a word with Dyrim about it. Sighing, she tidied her hair and left her room. Dyrim, Kibeth, Mosrael and Belgaer were all in Dyrim's room again, sitting on her bed and laughing about something – probably the Charter marks she had now installed in her ceiling – and they all looked around when Ranna entered the room.

'Are you going to see Merenne now?' Kibeth asked before Ranna could say anything, her eyes gleaming mischievously.

'I have to, I'm afraid,' Ranna answered, glaring pointedly at Dyrim. 'Apparently a noisy gull woke her half-way through the night.'

'Sorry!' Dyrim said, failing to hide a very unapologetic smirk.

'Gulls don't usually start making a racket until dawn,' Ranna pointed out. 'And I have told you not to change your forms while you are here.' She looked around the room, and then asked, 'Where is Astarael?'

Dyrim shrugged her shoulders casually. 'Kibeth said that she left a few hours ago. We don't know where she is.'

Ranna nodded. 'What are you planning to do while I'm gone?' she asked, a little suspiciously

'Arael has offered to show us around the palace,' Mosrael replied. 'We are supposed to be meeting her after breakfast, whenever that is, but she will be a little late. You will meet us in the passageway between the kitchens and the southern courtyard.'

'I see,' said Ranna slowly. 'You had all better behave yourselves.'

'We will,' Dyrim promised.

Ranna did not believe Dyrim at all, but she didn't want to keep the queen waiting, so she nodded and left. As she walked away, she heard half-stifled laughter coming from the room behind her – a sure sign that they were all planning to do something that she would not approve of. Sighing in exasperation, Ranna ignored them and continued on to Merenne's birthing room.

As Mosrael had predicted, Arael was late to meet them in the Great Hall, explaining that Nehima had caught her on the way and told her that she was, as expected, needed to sit in Petty Court that afternoon and for every afternoon that week, and the inevitable argument that followed had gone on for longer than Arael had intended.

'I wish I could show you some of the actual city as well,' she sighed once she had finished complaining about her sister. 'I find it a lot more interesting than here. There's more to see and it's not as formal as it is here. It's a shame you weren't here a few days ago – I could have shown you around the frost fair. I suppose some of it will still be there, but most of it will be packing up and preparing to leave now that the Mid-Winter festival is over.'

'Is that you?' Belgaer interrupted, pointing at one of the large, gilt-framed paintings on the wall of the Hall; one that showed five people, one of them a small girl, standing around a man and a woman seated on a double-throne.

Arael stopped and looked at the painting, then laughed. 'Yes,' she answered, pointing at the small girl. 'That is me. I was only six years old when that was painted.' She pointed at two of the other people standing around the throne. 'That is Anstyr – he was nearly twenty then, I think – and that is Merenne, standing next to him – she was only sixteen. That,' she said, scowling as she indicated one of the other figures, 'is Nehima. She was seventeen then – or was it sixteen? She was heavily pregnant with Aveline at the time this was painted. The man next to her is her late husband, Lord Bressel.'

'Nehima doesn't look very heavily pregnant,' commented Dyrim.

Arael smirked and lowered her voice. 'I know. She slipped the artist a few extra coins so he would paint her looking as she usually does. I can't blame her, if I'm honest: from what I remember, she looked awful–' She stopped mid-sentence and frowned. 'I'm sorry; I'm being really rude about her. I don't usually say things like that in front of guests.'

'We don't mind,' Mosrael assured her. She, Kibeth and Belgaer were all sure that Arael's talkative mood was, at least in part, due to the fact that Dyrim was standing so close to her, the Charter marks on her necklace glowing slightly – hardly noticeable in the daylight.

'Who are the people sitting on the throne?' asked Belgaer, her hand resting lightly on the frame. 'Are they your parents?'

'Yes,' Arael replied, her smile fading. 'King Anstyr the First and Queen Ysora. They both died within a year of this being painted. My mother died in childbirth, and her baby didn't live long either, and my father was killed by a Stilken only two months later. Bressel died then too, as did a lot of other men. They had all gone to fight it, even though they knew they wouldn't be able to do anything about it. Anstyr was there as well, but he was one of the lucky few who survived. No-one really knows what happened to the Stilken – apparently it just disappeared, and that ended the fight. That's partly why everyone here is afraid of Free Magic creatures. Anstyr hates them more than anyone else, as do the other few people who survived that fight.' She sighed and stared blankly at the painting for a while, then shook her head quickly and smiled again. 'Anyway, let's move on. I want to show you the dining hall and the kitchens. If we're lucky, Betta – our head cook – might give us something to eat. Do you want anything?'

Kibeth's eyes lit up. 'Yes, please.'

Arael laughed. 'So do I. She will probably be expecting me.'

She turned and led the way along a wide corridor that overlooked one of the palace's immaculate gardens. At the end of the corridor Arael led them into the dining hall, where meals were served on days that did not require a feast, and through to the kitchens, the smell of freshly-baked bread wafting through the closed kitchen doors. As Arael had said, Betta was expecting her. The middle-aged cook greeted Arael with a customary curtsey, and then, after wiping her hands on her white apron, proceeded to the less formal greeting of a kiss on both her cheeks. Then, when she belatedly noticed that Arael had not come alone, she dipped into another curtsey.

'You must forgive me, I did not notice that my Lady Arael had friends with her,' Betta said hurriedly. She straightened up and went to one of the large, wooden tables in the kitchens. 'Fortunately I have enough of these for all of you,' she added, picking up a large, silver tray of candied fruits. 'Your favourite, my lady,' she announced, presenting the tray to Arael, who grinned as she took it.

'Thank you, Betta,' Arael said, taking a cherry and popping it into her mouth, then offering the tray to Kibeth, Dyrim, Mosrael and Belgaer. 'These are delicious.'

'I'm glad, I'm glad,' Betta replied, rushing around to one of the bread ovens and taking out three loaves that she had almost forgotten about. 'Only the best for you, my lady. And your friends, of course.'

'Can I have another one?' Kibeth whispered to Arael, eyeing the remaining fruits eagerly.

'Yes, of course. Help yourselves,' Arael answered. Belgaer, Mosrael and Dyrim quickly took another piece each, and Kibeth took three.

Betta smiled. 'I am glad you all enjoy them. My Lady Arael has always been fond of them, ever since she was a young girl.'

Arael nodded and grinned. 'One time, after supper, I sneaked in here and stole some. Do you remember that, Betta?'

Betta laughed heartily. 'Of course I do, my lady. The king, your father, was ever so cross, but I was just pleased that you liked my cooking so much.'

'I can see why,' Dyrim commented, reaching out to take another piece of fruit. 'These really are lovely.'

'Thank you, Mistress,' Betta replied, dipping another curtsey, still smiling at the memory of a misbehaving, four-year-old Arael.

The remaining fruits were soon eaten – mostly by Kibeth – and then Arael decided that it would be best if they moved on, so as not to distract Betta from her work.

'This is the way to the southern courtyard,' Arael explained as they left the kitchens and walked through another corridor. 'It's not used that much during the winter, but the Mid-Summer ball is held there – that's very similar to the Mid-Winter one you went to yesterday – and there's a beautiful fountain in the middle of it, although that looks better when there's water in it. I would take you to see it, but it is too cold to go outside at the moment.'

'I would like to see it,' answered Dyrim, and the others echoed her response. 'It is not that cold.'

'It is,' Arael said, frowning slightly, 'especially outside. And none of us are wearing cloaks. We would all freeze to death, or catch a chill or something.'

'You sometimes forget your cloak when you go out for a ride,' Dyrim pointed out. 'Yet you have not caught a chill.'

Arael looked suspiciously at her. 'How do you know that?'

'I... Ranna told me,' Dyrim replied, realising her mistake and improvising quickly.

'How does Ranna know?'

'We don't know,' Mosrael answered, taking over from Dyrim, who was now cursing her talent for reading human minds. 'You could ask her. She will be here shortly.

'How do you know?' Arael asked again.

Belgaer rolled her eyes at Mosrael's slight mistake. 'It's because we're sisters,' she explained. 'Over the years, we have developed the... slightly strange ability to... um... sense each other's presence. Sometimes.'

Arael didn't look entirely convinced, but she didn't get a chance to ask anything more as, right on cue, Ranna entered the passageway and made her way towards them, clearly relieved to see that none of them were obviously misbehaving. She momentarily stopped in front of Arael and curtseyed, at which Arael laughed.

'You know you don't need to do that, Ranna,' she said.

Ranna smiled. 'It is just a habit, my lady.'

'And you know you don't need to call me that anymore.'

'Too much like a hu–' Kibeth began, before Belgaer cut her off in mid-sentence with a sharp nudge.

'You missed visiting the kitchens,' Dyrim said, talking quickly so that Arael didn't ask Kibeth about what she had been about to say. 'We were given some more of those candied fruits we had at the feast last night. We would have saved some for you, but Kibeth finished them off.'

'They were wonderful,' Kibeth added. 'I couldn't stop eating them!'

'We were just trying to decide whether it is too cold to go outside and have a look at the fountain,' Arael explained to Ranna. 'I don't want any of you to fall ill, but they are all very eager to see it, and it is quite an impressive fountain, so...'

'We won't fall ill,' Belgaer assured her.

'If you're sure,' Arael replied, smirking as a not-particularly-serious idea came into her head. 'Maybe I could pretend to catch a chill, so Nehima won't make me sit in Petty Court this week...' She started to lead them towards the door at the end of the passageway.

'So far, so good,' Belgaer whispered to Ranna, as Dyrim, walking beside Arael, began suggesting other possible ways for her to escape from Petty Court. 'She still thinks we're human.'

'No thanks to Kibeth,' Ranna whispered back. 'Fortunately for us, Arael didn't notice what she nearly said. She needs to be more careful!'

'I know,' Belgaer agreed. 'At least Mosrael and Dyrim have only made subtle mistakes.'

Ranna sighed. 'What have they done?'

'Dyrim mentioned something that she had read in Arael's mind, and Arael was asking how she knew, and Mosrael made it a little obvious that she knew when you were going to arrive. And Dyrim has been making Arael a bit more talkative than usual. But, other than that, we have been behaving ourselves.'

'Do you happen to know who has been leaving Charter spells for preservation in those portraits in the Great Hall?'

'Not at all,' Belgaer said too quickly.

Ranna groaned as quietly as she could. 'I cannot trust any of you to behave yourselves!' she whispered, exasperated. 'I am just thankful that humans can't sense Charter magic.'

When they reached the end of the corridor, Arael opened the door and led them out into the southern courtyard – a large, neatly paved area, lined with decorative, stone pots that would hold several different types of flower during the warmer months. In the centre of the courtyard, an ornate fountain stood around 20 feet high, six proud, marble dolphins standing upright on their tails, ready to spout water from their mouths into the elaborately carved basin below.

'It was a wedding gift from my grandfather to my grandmother,' Arael explained, as they all admired the skill with which the fountain had been made. 'She loved fountains. Quite a lot of the ones you can see around the city were gifts to her.'

'It's beautiful,' Dyrim remarked, and her comment was echoed by the others.

'It's going to snow tomorrow,' Mosrael said, staring blankly down at a nearby, ice-covered puddle that still remained from the previous night. 'I mean, it looks like it's going to snow tomorrow,' she corrected herself quickly, seeing Ranna's warning glare. 'It might snow.'

Arael looked up at the sky, grey with winter clouds. 'I hope it does. I will be going out for a ride tomorrow morning, and that's always more fun in the snow.' She smiled at a sudden idea. 'Seeing as you don't seem to mind the cold, would you all like to come with me? You can borrow some of the horses in the stables if you'd like. And, if Astarael is feeling better, she is welcome to come as well.' if

'That sounds like fun,' Dyrim answered eagerly. 'We would love to.'

'Good,' Arael replied. 'I suppose I will have to ask some guards to accompany us, seeing as you are guests. I don't think anyone would be pleased with me if something happened to you because there weren't any guards around.'

'Oh, you don't need to worry about that,' Kibeth said casually. 'We often went out on our own back at our home. And I'm sure we can all defend ourselves if something were to happen,' she added, winking ambiguously at Arael.

'Are you sure?' Arael asked. 'Most people don't like the idea of going out without proper protection.'

Dyrim grinned at her. 'But we are not "most people," and neither are you. Where's the fun in not breaking the rules occasionally?'

'I was just thinking that,' Arael said, also grinning. 'Those exact words, in fact.' She tried to suppress a shiver. 'Do you still want to look around out here, or do you want to go back inside?'

'I think it's getting a little cold now,' Ranna answered, before any of the others could say anything.

'I agree,' said Arael, and she led the way back into the palace. 'Where would you like me to meet you tomorrow morning?'

'In my room, probably,' Dyrim replied. 'We all have our breakfast there, so that is where we are most likely to be.'

'And you really don't mind if there are no guards with us?'

'Really,' Belgaer replied.

Arael smiled. 'You know, you are not like any of the guests we have had here before. Usually, they are all very rules-conscious and annoyingly formal. I know that is how people are expected to behave in a royal court, but it gets so tedious sometimes. If I had asked any of the people who stayed here during the Mid-Winter festival to go out riding with me without any guards, they would have politely refused because it's not the "proper" thing to do. I'm glad you're not like that.' d like.'

When the morning came, Ranna, Mosrael, and Belgaer all gathered in Dyrim's room to wait for Arael. Astarael had still not returned, and according to Dyrim, Kibeth had not yet come back from her night of exploring in her dog form, so they all assumed that she would be late. Soon, Arael knocked on Dyrim's door, and Mosrael let her in.

'Are you all ready to leave?' Arael asked eagerly.

'We are,' Mosrael answered, 'although Astarael is still unwell and Kibeth is... um... getting ready.'

'She should be ready by now. I'll call her,' Dyrim said. Then, raising her voice, she shouted: 'Kibeth!'

'Coming!' Kibeth called back cheerfully from somewhere across the corridor. She bounded through Dyrim's open door and into the room, grinning and wagging her tail.

'Kibeth, no!' Ranna cried, but it was too late.

Kibeth fluidly transformed back into her human form and looked around the room. Only then did she notice Arael, who was staring at her, a look of complete and utter shock on her face.

* * *

_Well done, Kibeth..._


	6. Chapter 5: A Secret Revealed

_Thanks to everyone who reviewed! :-) Let's see how Arael reacts..._

* * *

For a moment, nobody said or did anything. Arael stared at Kibeth and considered running out the room, while the others waited for her to do just that. Then, when the silence had stretched on for a little too long, Arael tentatively spoke.

'You're a… a Free Magic creature,' she said, trying to sound less afraid than she actually was.

'Yes,' Dyrim answered quietly. 'We are.'

Arael looked at her. 'All of you?'

'Yes,' Belgaer admitted reluctantly, while Ranna glared at Kibeth and Dyrim.

Arael gave a short, nervous laugh and sat down on the edge of the bed, the realisation just dawning on her that she was in a room with five potentially dangerous Free Magic creatures. Slowly, so as not to frighten the girl even more, Dyrim stepped towards her and knelt down, so she could look Arael in the eyes.

'Arael,' she said, infusing her words with the Charter marks for truth. 'I want to make something absolutely clear to you: none of us will harm you. You don't have to be afraid. We are just the same as we were yesterday.' She suddenly snorted with laughter and exclaimed, 'And we are certainly not going to eat you!'

Arael took a deep breath. She couldn't help but believe what Dyrim had said, despite the fact that it went against everything she had been told about Free Magic creatures. They were supposed to be dangerous, and have no regard for human life. But then, she thought, Free Magic creatures were also supposed to have a hot, metallic smell, and right now she couldn't smell anything unusual. Maybe they weren't beings of any considerable power…

Dyrim laughed again, and Arael jumped. Mosrael rolled her eyes at Dyrim and explained, 'Just to clear something else up, Dyrim can read your mind if she wants to.'

'You've scared her again now,' Dyrim retorted. 'Now she's afraid of thinking anything that might offend us.'

'Dyrim, stop it,' Ranna sighed. 'Arael, if you want us to go, we will.'

'No!' Arael replied quickly. 'I don't want you to go! As Dyrim said, you are still the same as you were yesterday and… well… if you really are dangerous, I don't think you would have pretended to be human like you have. If you had come here just to kill us or something, surely you would have just… well… done it.'

'Do you mean you're alright with this?' Ranna asked incredulously. 'Are you sure?'

'I think so,' Arael answered slowly, as if she was surprised by her own response.

'She's not lying,' Dyrim added.

Arael smiled. 'To be completely honest, I think I should be more worried about Nehima wanting to kill me than you.'

'Why?' asked Belgaer.

'Because she already disapproves of me going out without any guards, and I dread to think what she's do when she finds out I've been riding with a group of Free Magic creatures.'

Ranna stared at her. 'You trust us enough to still want to go out riding with us?'

'Yes,' Arael replied. 'Well, providing that you still want to, of course.'

'I do!' announced Kibeth, who had been keeping apologetically quiet up until this point. She gave Arael a wide grin. 'Come on, then. Let's go to the stables.'

Arael had already decided on the part of the surrounding countryside they would go to. Once she and her five companions had ridden their horses out of the city (and she had convinced the men who guarded the city's walls that she had a couple of guards following a few minutes behind her), she led them to the place she had chosen; a place on the far side of one of Belisaere's four hills that, coincidentally, had the added bonus of being completely out of sight of the city.

'Humans really are very strange creatures,' Dyrim said to Belgaer as they rode along.

'I heard that!' Arael exclaimed, pretending to be very offended.

Dyrim grinned at her. 'I know.'

'For your information, you are a lot stranger than me,' Arael retorted. 'Any idiot could see that.'

'Any idiot who knows what we are,' corrected Dyrim. 'Like you.'

'I am _not_ an idiot.'

'Most of Belisaere would think so, if they knew what you were doing right now.'

Arael had to agree with that. 'So, where is Astarael?' she asked, deciding to change the subject. 'I'm assuming she is not ill.'

'No, she isn't,' Belgaer replied slowly. 'She's… um… well, we don't actually know where she is.'

'She did tell me when she left a couple of nights ago,' added Kibeth, 'but I wasn't really listening, so I don't remember what she said.'

'Don't worry about her for now,' Dyrim said dismissively. 'How do you think we have been doing at pretending to be human?'

'Very well, up until this morning,' Arael replied, grinning at Kibeth. 'I certainly had no idea, and I don't think anyone else has either.'

'Good,' said Dyrim. 'I have to say, we've actually found it quite fun. Well, I have, at least.'

'And we've all almost given ourselves away at some point,' Belgaer added, 'which just goes to show how inattentive you humans are.'

Arael rolled her eyes, but found that she couldn't disagree. 'Can you all change into animals?'

'We can change into whatever we want,' Belgaer explained.

'Like this,' added Kibeth, directing her horse closer to Arael's and fluidly changing into an exact likeness of Nehima. The horse, surprisingly, did not seem overly bothered by this. Perhaps, Arael thought, it hadn't even noticed.

'That is too strange,' Arael said, trying to work out what made the Kibeth-Nehima different from the real one. Then, she realised: this Nehima was smiling at her. 'Please don't do that.'

'Alright,' sighed Kibeth, reverting back to her original appearance.

'We each have our preferred shapes,' Belgaer continued to explain. 'We usually take the forms we are in now, but we often turn into animals as well, as you saw with Kibeth earlier.'

Arael paused and looked around, checking that there was no-one else in sight. 'Can you show me?'

'Now?' Ranna asked.

'Yes.'

'Mosrael, will it be alright?' asked Belgaer.

'Yes, it will be fine,' Mosrael replied, winking at Arael. 'No-one will see us.'

'Mosrael can See the future,' Dyrim whispered to Arael, seeing her confused expression.

Arael nodded, deciding not to ask for a fuller explanation, and dismounted. The others did the same, albeit much more gracefully, and Arael tied their horses' reins to a branch on a nearby tree.

'You already know what my preferred animal shape is,' said Kibeth, transforming into her dog-shape again before jumping up and licking Arael's face enthusiastically. Arael laughed and tried not to fall over, counter-attacking by scratching Kibeth behind the ear, just as she did with real dogs. Then, she started as she felt something land on her shoulder. Turning her head to look, she saw a pale green dragonfly looking back at her in a way that no real dragonfly ever could.

'Don't worry, it's only me,' the dragonfly said in Mosrael's voice.

'I tend to take the shape of an eagle,' Dyrim explained, 'but while I've been in Belisaere, I've taken quite a liking to a gull form. It gives me an excuse to make as much noise as I want.'

'And it seems to make all the real gulls a lot more noisy too,' Belgaer added, taking on the form of an owl. Dyrim – now in the shape of a large seagull – attempted to peck at Belgaer's feathers, but the owl's wing suddenly grew larger and hit her over the head.

'Oh, stop it, you two,' Ranna sighed, reluctantly changing into a dove. Her words had no effect, however, and Dyrim and Belgaer continued to squabble until Kibeth ran at them both, barking excitedly.

Arael grinned at them all. 'Have you been changing your forms while you've been staying in Belisaere?'

'No,' Ranna answered.

'Yes,' admitted Dyrim, Kibeth, Belgaer and Mosrael, all at the same time.

'Only a few times, though,' Dyrim added. 'And only at night, so nobody wonders where we are.'

'Well, I haven't done it at all,' Ranna said indignantly. 'I have been behaving myself completely.'

'Except for that sleeping spell you use on Merenne all the time,' commented Dyrim. 'Merenne won't like it if she finds out that a Free Magic creature has been singing her to sleep every night, will she?'

Ranna looked at Arael pleadingly. 'You won't tell anyone, will you?'

'Of course I won't,' Arael promised. She looked at the dragonfly on her shoulder and added, 'Your secret is safe with me.'

When they returned to Belisaere, Arael was in a very good mood. This puzzled Nehima, who they happened to meet just after the horses had been handed over to a stable-boy.

'You didn't take any guards with you again, Arael,' Nehima pointed out, after nodding in greeting. 'What have I told you about going out riding without any of the guard?'

'You've told me not to do that because I might get attacked by something nasty,' Arael recited, rolling her eyes. 'But, seeing as we didn't get attacked, everything is alright.'

Nehima nodded, still bemused by her sister's cheerful mood. 'Lunch will be served in an hour,' she said finally. 'Try to look at least a little presentable this time.'

'I'll try,' Arael lied. 'But you do want me to be on time, don't you?'

'I want you to be there on time _and_ looking presentable,' Nehima replied. 'If that is at all possible.'

Arael rolled her eyes again as Nehima walked away, and Dyrim grinned at her.

'It would be so much easier to be ready on time if I could just shape-shift like you can,' Arael whispered. 'Then I could look as presentable as Nehima wants me to be.'

Dyrim laughed loudly as she tried to imagine Arael looking "presentable" by Nehima's standards. It didn't seem a very likely image. 'Maybe you should start getting yourself ready now,' she suggested, resting her hand on Arael's shoulder and starting to direct her towards her chambers.

Just at that moment, Anstyr came striding towards them, accompanied by a group of rather worried-looking guards.

'Arael, get away from them,' the king instructed, trying to hide the slight note of urgency is his voice.

'Why?' Arael asked, although she had already begun to guess the reason.

'They are dangerous,' he answered, taking her wrist and pulling her towards the protective group of guards. 'They are not what they say they are.'

'What do you mean?' Arael asked, deciding to feign ignorance for the time being.

'They are Free Magic creatures,' Anstyr replied, his voice betraying his fear.

'What makes you think that?'

'They were seen, earlier today, changing their forms.'

One of the guards cleared his throat in a slightly embarrassed way. 'Sire, the Lady Arael was seen with them at the time.'

Anstyr stared at his sister and gaped. 'You knew?' he asked quietly. 'You knew, and you still went out with them? Are you completely insane, Arael? You could have been killed!'

'But I wasn't,' Arael retorted. 'I am fine, and that proves that they are not dangerous.'

'It proves nothing,' Anstyr snapped, 'other than the fact that you are possibly more stupid than your sister and I originally thought.' He turned to two of the guards. 'Please escort my sister back to her room immediately, and make sure she stays there. I will speak with her later.'

Arael glared at Anstyr as she was led away, her heart sinking fast. She knew that she was in more trouble now than she had ever been in before. And that trouble was sure to increase the minute Nehima found out. Furiously, she broke away from the guards, marching ahead of them to her chambers and slamming the door in their faces. Then, she locked the door and threw herself onto her bed. Neither of her siblings would ever understand that not all Free Magic beings were dangerous killers. They had never been very open-minded. She knew her new friends would leave Belisaere now. They might have already left. Anstyr was unlikely to be able to force them to go, but they would probably go of their own accord, just to prove that they really didn't mean any harm. And, Arael decided, she was going to go with them.

Later that afternoon, Nehima stormed up the stairs to Arael's chambers. Anstyr had explained that their sister was in a lot of trouble and would probably miss the afternoon meal, but he had not said anything more than that. Arael had then failed to turn up to Petty Court, so Nehima had decided that it was time to have a talk with her before she could miss the evening meal as well. As she climbed the stairs, she heard a thumping sound coming from the direction of Arael's chambers, and hurried to see what it was. It was Anstyr, knocking very hard on the door with his fist. As Nehima approached, she heard her brother let out an exasperated sigh.

'What is it?' Nehima asked, puzzled by Anstyr's furious expression.

The king glared at the closed door. 'Your sister is in a lot of trouble.'

'I know,' Nehima answered. 'You told me that earlier.'

Anstyr took a deep breath in a futile attempt to calm himself. 'She decided it would be a good idea to be in the company of five Free Magic beings this morning.'

Nehima gasped. 'What? She cannot have done! I saw her just after she had returned from her morning ride.'

'You must have seen her with them then,' Anstyr said flatly.

'You mean...' Nehima whispered, turning visibly white, 'her friends... Ranna and her sisters? They are Free Magic beings? All of them?' Anstyr nodded. 'Did Arael know?'

'Yes,' Anstyr answered, shooting another livid glare at the door. 'They were seen shape-shifting in front of her by two of the guards who were out on patrol this morning. Stupid girl...' he muttered, and then thumped the door again. 'Arael! Open this door immediately!'

There was no reply.

Anstyr gritted his teeth and struggled to stop himself breaking down the door and throttling his sister. 'I demand that you let me in right now.'

Still no reply.

'This is the third time I have tried to talk to her today, and I am losing my temper,' Anstyr growled.

_You have lost it already_, Nehima thought to herself, taking in her brother's reddened face and clenched fists. She winced as Anstyr pounded on the door and yelled at Arael again to unlock the door, and then she took off a simple, gold chain she wore around her neck. On the chain dangled a silver key – an exact replica of the one Arael wore around her own neck. She handed the key to Anstyr, who stared at it incredulously.

'I had a spare one made last year,' Nehima explained. 'She was refusing to let me in, just like this, and so I thought of this simple solution.'

Anstyr took the key and unlocked Arael's door, and both he and Nehima looked in, noticing how unusually tidy everything was. Arael had a habit of throwing things around when she was angry. Anstyr barged into the room, and Nehima followed him.

'She is not in here,' Nehima stated, looking around in confusion.

'She must be,' Anstyr replied, opening Arael's wardrobe to see if she was hiding inside it, and then checking under the bed. 'The guards were under specific orders not to let her leave the room. She has to be in here somewhere.'

Anstyr and Nehima searched all of Arael's rooms several times, but there was still no sign of their sister. Eventually, they had to agree that there was no point in looking any more. Arael was not there.

'How could she have got out?' Anstyr asked, bewildered.

Nehima crossed to the window in Arael's bedroom, and observed the way it was not quite closed properly. 'She must have climbed out of the window,' she said quietly. Anstyr came to join her, and they both stared out of the window at the dark ground below. The rough stone of the outside wall and the ivy clinging to it created a convenient, if unsafe, way down from the window.

'I want her found,' Anstyr declared firmly. 'Guards!'

The two men who had guarded Arael's door entered the room quickly and stood to attention.

'Find my sister,' Anstyr told them. 'She cannot have gone far, and somebody must have seen her. I want her back here immediately.'

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_Something tells me Arael's just making things worse for herself..._

_Please review!_


	7. Chapter 6: A Surreal Night

_As always, thanks to people who reviewed the last chapter, and to those who reviewed my random little Hedge/Chlorr oneshot. Now let's see what Arael's up to..._

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Arael had no idea where she was going. As she had been pre-occupied with escaping from her window, reaching the stables, and leaving Belisaere without being seen, she hadn't really thought about where she would go. She had been riding for hours, her fur-lined cloak did not completely cut out the chill of the wintery night, and she hadn't remembered to take any food with her either. In short, she was tired, cold, hungry, and beginning to think that her impulsive decision to leave Belisaere had been a rather stupid idea.

She halted her horse on the edge of a small forest, and considered her options. She could turn her horse around and go back now, but that would mean arriving in the city at some ridiculous hour of the morning without having had any sleep at all, and having to endure Anstyr's famous temper. Or, she could stay out here, find somewhere relatively suitable to camp for the night, and return to Belisaere the following morning, when Anstyr's temper might have subsided.

Arael winced as she thought of the last time she had made her brother angry. That thought made the decision clear to her: it would probably be safer to stay where she was. She peered at the forest, contemplating its potential as a camping location. The faint moonlight only just enabled her to see that the trees were spindly and bare, but quite close together, their leafless branches creating some form of shelter. It certainly looked like the best place to sleep nearby, and Arael started to steer her horse into the trees.

Then she suddenly caught the hot, metallic scent of Free Magic. Her horse smelt it too and took a few nervous steps backwards. Arael tightened her grip on the reins, feeling her heart thumping loudly in her chest, her eyes darting around, searching for any sign of movement. She saw nothing, but she moved her horse away from the forest. Anything could be hiding in there, and she didn't want it to creep up on her. The horse snorted and jumped a little, but Arael hardly noticed. All her attention was focused on looking for whatever it was that was out there. Maybe it would be safer to go back to Belisaere after all. Anstyr would be furious, but facing him would be a lot better than facing a Free Magic creature. At least Anstyr would only metaphorically kill her.

Then, without warning, something burst out the trees only a short distance away from her. Arael was about to scream, but her horse beat her to it, rearing up on its hind legs and throwing her from the saddle. Then it was gone, speeding back towards Belisaere at a full gallop. Arael didn't watch the horse go. She stood up as quickly as she could, wincing slightly as her now-bruised hip protested, and turned to look at whatever creature it was that stood only a few paces away, clearly watching her.

It was tall and vaguely humanoid, its violet skin cross-hatched and rough-looking, and its legs ended in hooks instead of feet. It had clubs where hands ought to be, and each club was covered in inch-long spikes, like half-bald hedgehogs. Arael didn't want to see its face, but she found herself looking anyway into two large, black eyes that took up half the creature's face, violet pupils glowing eerily in the dark. As she stared at it, the creature opened its too-wide mouth and revealed a lot of very sharp, black teeth.

Arael could feel her heart beating even louder and faster now. The creature was staring intently back at her and she felt caught in its gaze. She didn't know what she could do. Her hand brushed lightly against the hilt of the sword she wore at her side, but weapons were useless against Free Magic creatures. Everyone knew that.

Slowly, the creature stalked towards her, circling her, and Arael instinctively backed away, though she never took her eyes off it. The Free Magic smell was getting stronger as it came closer, making her feel sick, and she realised that the creature was circling around her, pushing her towards the forest. Perhaps, Arael thought, she could run into the trees and hide from the creature there. It was a wild, crazy idea, and it probably wouldn't work at all, but her mind had gone completely blank of any other plans.

'It will not help if you run,' said a hissing voice, sounding as if it were inside her head. 'I can be quick if I want to be.'

Arael assumed that it was creature speaking to her, and she stepped backwards again as it moved forwards. Her foot met something hard and wouldn't go back as far as she wanted, and she realised that she was now backed against a tree trunk. She would have to look away from it if she wanted to get any further away.

'I need blood,' continued the creature. 'It sustains me. The Travellers I drained earlier were not enough. But I must be quick. Two of the Bright Shiners are approaching, and they would not allow me to feast upon your blood, the traitors.'

'Who are the Bright Shiners?' Arael asked quickly. If she could keep the creature talking, she reasoned, maybe help would arrive before it could kill her.

'They have betrayed us, all seven of them,' the creature hissed. Arael wasn't sure if it had heard her. 'They oppose the very stuff from which we are made. I am one of the lucky few who escaped them when they imprisoned so many in the long ago.'

'But you are afraid of them,' Arael said, picking up on the underlying note of fear in the creature's words.

'Who would not be?' it answered. 'They surpass us all in power. But that is enough talk. I must have your blood and leave before they come.'

With that, it leapt forwards, crossing the remaining space between itself and Arael in one go, and sinking its razor-sharp teeth into her arm. Arael screamed and tore her arm away from it, then ran as fast as she could into the trees, ignoring the pain and the warm blood soaking into her sleeve. She could hear that the creature was following her, snapping any tree that was in its way. She risked a quick glance over one shoulder, and almost screamed again when she saw how close the creature was behind her.

Then she actually did scream as something reached out from the shadows and grabbed her by the arm, pulling her sideways just as one of the creature's clubbed forearms lashed out towards her. It hit the trunk of a nearby tree instead, smashing through the wood like a brick thrown through glass, and a voice from behind Arael spoke.

'Now, what did that tree do to deserve that?'

Arael half-gasped as she recognised the voice, and she turned around to check that she was correct.

'Mosrael?' she whispered, hardly able to believe it.

Mosrael smiled at Arael, completely unsurprised to see her. 'Hello, Arael,' she said casually, as if she had just happened to pass her on the road. Then, she looked back at the creature, which was standing still, evidently unwilling to continue chasing its prey and unsure of whether to retreat or not.

'Dyrim, how long does it take?' Mosrael called, her gaze moving past the creature, into the dark forest.

'Sorry!' came the reply. Then Dyrim stepped out from the trees, a chain of rather scrawny-looking daisies held in one hand. 'It's harder than you think to find these in the middle of winter. You could have woken some up for me. And where do you think you're going?' she added, as the creature tried to slink away, unnoticed. It started to speed up into a run, but Dyrim threw the daisy chain over its head before it had gone more than a couple of metres. Blue-white sparks crackled as the flowers touched its Free Magic flesh.

'Daisies?' Arael asked, raising one eyebrow sceptically.

'Yes, daisies,' replied Mosrael. 'The first of three chains needed to bind a Hrule.'

Arael did not look at all convinced. 'You bind a thing like that with daisies?'

'I believe you have the next one,' Dyrim said to Mosrael.

Mosrael nodded and drew a chain of pure silver out of one of her sleeves. She handed it to Dyrim, and then turned to Arael.

'Let's do something about your arm,' she said, inspecting Arael's still-bleeding wound. 'Dyrim will deal with the Hrule,' she added, seeing Arael looking over her shoulder at Dyrim, who had now produced a third chain, made of some other type of metal. Mosrael rested one hand gently over Arael's wound, and Arael saw golden light appear under her palm. Slowly, the pain lessened and the blood stopped oozing out of the any punctures made by the creature's teeth. When Mosrael took her hand away, all that was left was a slight, barely noticeable scar.

'Now,' Mosrael said, looking at Arael's arm with satisfaction. 'What exactly are you doing out here, in the company of a Hrule?

'I was… um... running away,' Arael replied, trying to calm her breathing down now she knew she was safe.

'From what?' Mosrael asked. 'Belisaere, or that Hrule?'

'Both,' Arael answered, a little guiltily. Mosrael was probably going to tell her that it had been a stupid idea to leave the city – something Arael had figured out a while ago.

'It's good to know it had the sense to be afraid of us,' Dyrim said, walking up behind Arael now she had bound the Hrule in all three chains. 'Although, clearly not the sense to run away.'

Arael stared at her in surprise. 'You are the... what did it say... the Bright Shiners?'

'That's what we are known as, apparently,' Dyrim replied, shrugging casually.

Arael carried on staring for a while, but then frowned. 'It said there were seven of you.'

'I suppose you will be needing somewhere to sleep tonight,' Mosrael said quickly, deliberately ignoring Arael's comment. 'That is why I brought Dyrim along with me. We have temporarily settled ourselves in a small forest, a few miles south of Orchyre. I will finish dealing with the Hrule, and Dyrim can fly you there, if you'd like. Or she could take you back to Belisaere.'

Arael was about to answer, but then she hesitated, something else that the Hrule had said repeating itself in her head. Dyrim, having evidently read her mind, suddenly laughed.

'We may be powerful, Arael, but we are only dangerous when we want to be. And what is it with you and thinking that we are going to eat you?'

Arael flushed and tried to clear her mind completely.

'It's not working,' Dyrim said, grinning mischievously. 'And yes, you're right, I can be very annoying. As to flying you all the way to Orchyre, that's simple.' To demonstrate, she fluidly changed her form, becoming an unnaturally large eagle. 'You sit on my back, and we will be there in only an hour or so.' There was a pause while Arael considered what to say, and Dyrim sighed. 'I am offended by your lack of trust. Only this morning, you were quite happy to be alone with all of us.'

'I know,' Arael replied. 'But then, I thought you were only lesser Free Magic beings, because you didn't seem dangerous and you don't smell of Free Magic, like that Hrule did. Now it would seem as though I was wrong.'

'You were,' Mosrael answered. 'But why does that mean that we are any different now?'

'Exactly,' pronounced Dyrim. 'Now, do you want to come with me, or do you want to stay here on your own?'

'I think I want to come with you,' Arael said, cautiously moving closer to Dyrim and placing a hand on her feathery back.

'Good,' said Dyrim, waiting patiently as Arael sat just in front of her wings. 'Do you mind if I fly quite fast? It's more fun that way.'

'As long as I don't fall off,' Arael answered.

'If you do, I can catch you easily enough,' said Dyrim. 'Just remember to hold on tight.'

With that, she began to flap her powerful wings and, within seconds, was soaring smoothly into the air, Mosrael waving to them from the ground.

For the first few minutes, Arael concentrated only on not falling off, but as she gradually became accustomed to the feeling of flying, she started enjoying the feeling of freedom she got from being so high up and seeing the land rushing past beneath her. Everything looked so tiny, and the silver-grey moonlight made it all look slightly eerie, in a strange and beautiful way. At one point, Dyrim turned around to face the north and hovered there for a moment.

'Well, there's Belisaere,' she commented. 'Am I right in guessing that you've never seen it like that before?'

Arael could do nothing but stare at the great mass of the Belisaere, the towers of the palace visible even behind the city's walls, and she found herself laughing at the thought of Nehima and Anstyr's expressions if they saw what she was doing now.

All too soon, Dyrim turned back to the south and carried on flying. As she had said, after around an hour, she flew over the town of Orchyre, and then began to descend towards a patch of fir trees, landing gracefully on the edge of the forest.

'How was that?' she asked, resuming her human shape once Arael had climbed off her back.

Arael leaned against a tree and tried to get back the breath that adrenaline had taken away. 'Amazing,' she managed to say eventually.

Dyrim beamed. 'Good.' She started to lead the way into the thicket of trees. 'This way.'

Arael followed her obediently, occasionally stumbling on raised tree roots that the darkness concealed. Every time she tripped, Dyrim looked back at her, shook her head, and muttered something about humans having rubbish eyesight and balance. Arael rolled her eye at these comments, and guessed that she would have to endure several more of them during the night. She began to think up a few witty responses, but then she tripped again and decided to concentrate on where she was going instead.

Presently, Dyrim led her to a group of trees that grew in a rough circle, their branches protruding from their trunks at odd, twisted angles, so some of them nearly reached the ground. Belgaer and Kibeth were reclining comfortably on some of the lower branches, and Ranna was lying – apparently sleeping – on one that was almost horizontal.

'We have company,' Dyrim announced, stopping just inside the ring of trees.

'Who?' Belgaer asked, looking round at Dyrim. Her face lit up when she saw Arael. 'Hello, Arael!'

'Be quiet!' hissed Ranna, turning her head just enough so she could glare at Belgaer. 'Some of us are trying to sleep.'

'Arael's decided to join us,' Kibeth explained brightly, grinning at Arael from her branch.

'Oh.' Ranna did not sound particularly enthusiastic. Or awake.

'How exactly can you balance on those branches whilst sleeping?' Arael asked, noticing the fact that very few of the trees' branches were thick enough for anyone to lie down on without the risk of falling off.

'We're not sleeping,' Kibeth answered.

'I am,' Ranna mumbled.

'You don't need to sleep,' said Dyrim dismissively. 'Be sociable.' She picked up a pine cone from the forest floor and threw it at Ranna. It hit her on the shoulder and knocked her off the branch, and Ranna only just managed to turn her fall into something slightly more graceful.

'Oh, alright,' Ranna sighed, landing neatly, almost like a cat. 'Hello, Arael,' she added, remembering that she hadn't greeted the girl yet.

'Aren't you and Mosrael supposed to be dealing with a Hrule?' Belgaer asked, eyeing Dyrim suspiciously.

'We did deal with it,' Dyrim answered, sitting herself down on a low branch. 'Mosrael is just putting it away. Guess who I found with it.'

Kibeth rolled her eyes sarcastically. 'Typical. Didn't anyone tell you that not all Free Magic creatures are friendly? Why are you out here, anyway?'

'I ran away,' Arael replied shortly.

'I've told her that she can stay here, with us,' Dyrim added. 'She can sleep on a branch, like Ranna was.'

Belgaer frowned. 'It that a good idea?' she asked.

'That's right,' Kibeth added sarcastically. 'It's not really a good idea for a human to stay with us. We might forget to feed it, or one of us might decide to eat it during the night. After all, we are dangerous Free Magic beings as well. You shouldn't really be anywhere near us, Arael.'

'Oh, shut up, Kibeth,' Belgaer sighed. 'You know what I mean.'

'Can you, please, quieten down so I can go to sleep?' Ranna asked, climbing back up onto her branch and lying back down on it as easily as if it were a bed. 'I expect Arael's tired as well.'

'She's evidently not as tired as you're pretending to be,' Dyrim retorted. 'You can't even get tired. All that time in Belisaere has had a lasting effect on you, Ranna. You're acting almost as human as Arael at the moment.'

'I doubt I will ever be able to sleep on this,' Arael muttered to herself, sitting down beside Dyrim. The branch was more comfortable than she had expected, but it was still very narrow. 'I'll probably fall off in the middle of the night.'

'I think you'll fall off earlier than that,' Kibeth teased.

Arael glared at Kibeth. 'I think I'll sleep on the ground.'

'Good idea,' said Belgaer. Then, she looked up into the higher branches of the trees and called, 'Astarael, make sure you don't say anything! Arael's staying with us tonight! Maybe we should have mentioned this before,' she added slowly, seeing Arael look at her questioningly. 'If you hear Astarael's voice, you will die.'

'Why?' asked Arael, puzzled.

Belgaer shrugged her shoulders. 'We don't know. It's just her, we think.'

Arael looked up to where Astarael was sitting, on one of the highest branches. She seemed to be intent on carefully folding a small piece of paper into a delicate shape, although Arael couldn't quite see what shape it was. When she had finished, she rested it on her palm for a moment, and then picked it up again. Then, she viciously ripped it in two and let the pieces fall from her hands. One half caught in the lower branches of the tree, but the other fluttered all the way down. Arael caught it and looked at it: it was half of a tiny moth, the paper folded with beautiful intricacy, and she wondered why Astarael had torn it up.

'It's best just to ignore her,' Dyrim added. 'That's what we do.'

Arael frowned at that and opened her mouth to comment, but a yawn came out instead of words. Quickly, she tried to stifle it, rolling her eyes as Kibeth and Dyrim started laughing.

'So much for you telling yourself that you're not tired,' said Dyrim, putting her arm around Arael's shoulders. 'Sleep if you want. We won't wake you up. Well, not on purpose, at least.'

'We definitely won't do this,' added Kibeth, throwing a pine cone at Ranna in the same way Dyrim had done earlier. This time, Ranna caught it and threw it back, seemingly without waking up.

'Good,' Arael said, grinning and resting her head against Dyrim's shoulder. The rush of adrenaline she had got from flying had worn off completely now, and she had only just noticed how tired she was. She pulled her cloak tighter around herself, and closed her eyes. Within minutes, she was fast asleep.

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_Reviews are always welcome, people!_


	8. Chapter 7: Return to Belisaere

_*sigh* Sorry it's been so long since I updated... I blame a combination of exams, unsuccessful job hunting, and severe writer's block... _

_Anyway, I'll try not to leave it so long between updates again (I swear I've said that before...) and hopefully you'll forgive me and leave me a nice review! ^_^_

_Disclaimer: I still don't own any of the Shiners, or Belisaere, or even Anstyr and Nehima's names._

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Arael awoke to find herself lying on the floor of a pine forest, with her cloak wrapped firmly around her. For a moment, she just lay still, staring up at the branches of the fir trees that criss-crossed above her, and tried to remember why she wasn't in her comfortable bed in Belisaere. Slowly, as the crisp winter air woke her properly, the memories came back: impulsively deciding to leave Belisaere, her encounter with the Hrule, Dyrim and Mosrael rescuing her, Dyrim flying her here…

She sat herself up and looked around, one hand going to her head to remove the numerous pine needles that had become entangled in her hair during the night. No-one else was in sight, but Arael could hear voices coming from somewhere nearby. She got to her feet and started walked towards the voices, which were unmistakeably Belgaer's and Kibeth's. She climbed over the trunk of a fallen pine tree and saw them sitting by a small fire with Dyrim, Mosrael and Ranna, who all looked half-amused, and half-annoyed.

'Kibeth, of course you need to skin them!' Belgaer was saying in an exasperated tone. 'Humans don't eat the skins.'

'I've eaten one with the skin on,' Kibeth replied, 'and it hasn't done me any harm.'

'You're not human,' Belgaer retorted. 'Look, give them to me and I'll skin them, and then I can cook them.' She reached out and grabbed one of the six dead rabbits – evidently the cause of this dispute.

'You can't cook, though,' Dyrim commented.

'Neither can you,' Belgaer answered shortly, holding the limp rabbit by its neck and inspecting it to see if there was any obvious way to skin it. 'Anyway, how hard can it be? All you do is heat it up for a while.'

'They taste fine when they're raw,' sighed Kibeth. 'And when they have their skins on.'

'You're not supposed to eat the skins!' exclaimed Belgaer.

'Good morning,' Arael said, deciding to interrupt this little argument.

'Morning?' Mosrael repeated, as they all turned to look at Arael. 'You're a little late for morning, aren't you? Midday was several hours ago.'

'It was?' Arael asked, both surprised and amused. She had never slept into the afternoon before.

'Are you hungry, Arael?' Kibeth asked, moving the remaining rabbits further away from Belgaer, who was now trying to take another. 'I'm trying to cook these for us all, but Belgaer seems to think it's necessary to skin them first.'

'It is!' Belgaer insisted.

Arael couldn't help but laugh, and both Kibeth and Belgaer looked at her, puzzled.

'I just find it rather amusing that two of the most powerful Free Magic beings in existence are arguing over how to cook rabbits,' Arael explained.

Dyrim, Ranna and Mosrael burst out laughing, and Kibeth and Belgaer looked at each other in a slightly embarrassed way.

'None of us have ever cooked anything before,' Belgaer said. 'We've only recently been introduced to eating.'

'I know,' Arael replied, sitting down between Dyrim and Mosrael. 'You do need to skin them, by the way.'

'As I said,' Belgaer said, grinning triumphantly at Kibeth, who reluctantly handed the rest of the rabbits over to her. 'Now, Arael, do you have any idea how to actually skin these?'

Arael shook her head. 'I've never cooked anything either.'

'Give them to me,' said Ranna, sketching a few Charter marks that formed a small, silver knife. Belgaer handed one of the rabbits to her, and watched as she made a small cut with the blade and started to pull the skin off.

'Where did you learn that?' Dyrim asked in amazement.

'I have been around humans for a lot longer than you have,' Ranna replied, without looking up from the rabbit. 'Can I have the next one, please?'

'Arael is human,' Belgaer pointed out as she handed another rabbit over. 'And she had no idea.'

Ranna paused in her work and looked up innocently. 'Anstyr asked me to accompany him on a couple of his hunts, and we always took whatever we killed straight to the kitchens when we returned. I saw it done then.'

Arael raised her eyebrows, half in surprise and half in suspicion, but no-one else commented on Ranna's explanation. A few minutes later, all the rabbits had been skinned, cut up, and cooked over the small fire, the pieces skewered on thin sticks. Arael tucked into hers eagerly, the smell of cooking food reminding her that she hadn't eaten for almost a whole day. It was only when she had finished that she noticed someone was missing.

'Why didn't Astarael eat with us?' she asked.

Dyrim shrugged her shoulders. 'She didn't want to.'

Arael frowned, and wondered if they had actually asked Astarael at all. From the tone of Dyrim's voice, it didn't sound like it, and that led Arael to wonder why. Astarael was sitting on the same branch she had been on the previous night, and Arael glanced up at her for a moment. Why was it that she seemed so apart from the others?

'There's a stream just over there if you wanted to wash,' Dyrim said, as if she was deliberately interrupting Arael's thoughts. 'We chose this place quite well, didn't we?'

Arael nodded, and then headed over to the small stream a few metres away. She dipped her hands into the water and splashed it on her face, completely unprepared for the shock of cold that came with it. Then, after drying herself with her skirt, she returned to the fire, where the others were deep in a hushed conversation.

'Should we tell her?' Kibeth whispered.

'Of course we should,' Mosrael whispered back. 'We can't just get up and leave without saying anything.'

'We'd have to take her with us anyway,' Belgaer pointed out. 'We can't leave her here on her own.'

'She's listening,' Dyrim said, a little louder. She turned around to look at Arael. 'Mosrael needs to tell you something,' she said, and Arael was worried by the seriousness of Dyrim's voice.

Mosrael also looked at Arael as she explained. 'I've just had a vision that means that we all need to go back to Belisaere,' she said, clearly unwilling to explain further.

'Why?' asked Arael, although she wasn't sure if she wanted to know. It didn't sound like it was going to be anything good.

'Mosrael said she has Seen three Free Magic sorcerers attacking Belisaere with a group of Hish,' Dyrim said simply.

'What?' Arael exclaimed, visibly paling. One Free Magic sorcerer was bad enough – she had heard tales of past, hard-won battles with such people – but three at the same time? Defeating them would be impossible!

'Don't worry,' added Mosrael. 'Trust me: I've Seen it. We will go there and fight them ourselves. They won't stand a chance.'

'Hold on,' Ranna interrupted. 'If we all go to Belisaere, what will Arael do? We can't take her with us and get her involved in this fight, and we can't just leave her here alone.'

'We could take her with us,' Belgaer suggested. 'We could take her to the palace, so she'll be safe, and then we can wait outside the city's walls and sort this out from there. That way, the humans don't have to be involved at all, and no-one will get hurt.'

'Except for those sorcerers,' Kibeth added.

'Yes,' Belgaer agreed. 'Except them. I don't think I'll ever understand why humans ever thought it would be a good idea to practise Free Magic.'

'Neither do I,' Mosrael said quickly. 'We need to leave now, or we won't arrive in Belisaere in time. I think we do, at least.' She looked up at the sun through the branches of the fir trees. 'It was nearing dusk in the vision, so we may have a little longer.'

Dyrim looked over at Arael, who had been unusually quiet. She was staring into the dwindling campfire, but Dyrim knew the girl's mind was not on the dancing flames. 'I think we should leave now. It will be better to get to Belisaere early that it will to get there late.'

Everyone agreed with that, and then things started moving quickly. Within only a few minutes, the fire was extinguished, and they had all left the forest. Dyrim took on her eagle form again, and gestured for Arael to sit on her back, as she had done the previous night. Arael did so, though she was still distracted by thoughts of what could happen if they didn't reach Belisaere in time.

'None of that will happen,' Dyrim assured her, turning her head to look at Arael in a way no real eagle could. 'Now, hold on tight.'

With that, she flapped her powerful wings and took off into the air, the others following close behind. The air was colder that it had been on the ground, but neither that nor the still-unfamiliar feeling of flying could stop Arael worrying. No-one said anything – at least, nothing that Arael could hear – for the majority of the journey, and after almost an hour of flying, they were directly over Belisaere. Arael looked down and saw a mass of red-clad figures – unmistakably the royal army – assembling rapidly into several neat lines.

'It looks like they already know what's coming,' Dyrim said, surveying the area. 'Arael, you need to stop them marching out to face these sorcerers. Tell whoever is in charge – Anstyr, I suppose – that we will sort it out. Where is Anstyr likely to be?'

'In the palace, probably,' Arael replied nervously. Convincing Anstyr not to send the army out would be easier said than done, especially when the suggestion was coming from his slightly reckless younger sister, who was likely to still be in trouble from the previous day. Still, she would at least try.

Dyrim began to swoop smoothly down towards the palace, aiming for the south-eastern tower, which was conveniently unmanned. She hovered steadily and waited until Arael had climbed off her back, then winked at her.

'Everything will be fine. I promise. Now, be quick!'

Arael nodded and ran down the spiral steps of the tower, then along the empty corridor and down another flight of steps, heading for Anstyr's study. That was where he was most likely to be, she decided, only just dodging a couple of maids, who both stared at her as she ran past. Arael assumed that their stares were due to her windswept and rather dishevelled appearance, but there would be time to tidy herself up later. She began to mentally rehearse what she would say to try and convince Anstyr not to send the royal army out. Her first ideas did not sound nearly as persuasive as she needed to be, and she was so engrossed in thinking up something else that she ran straight into someone coming the other way down the passage.

'Sorry, excuse me,' Arael muttered, trying to continue on her way to the study, but the person she had collided with suddenly pulled her into a tight embrace.

'Arael! Thank goodness you're alright! Are you alright? Oh, you have no idea how worried we have all been!'

Arael rolled her eyes as she recognised the voice as her sister's, and she tried to push herself away, but Nehima refused to let her go.

'Nehima, I need to speak to Anstyr,' she explained quickly.

''Where have you been?' Nehima asked, clearly paying no attention at all to what Arael was saying. 'What happened to you?'

'I have only been gone for a day,' Arael answered, finally succeeding in escaping from her elder sister's embrace.

'I know,' said Nehima, her voice becoming slightly quieter. 'But… but we thought you were dead…'

'What?' Arael exclaimed.

'Anstyr sent the scouts out to track you with their dogs last night,' Nehima replied quietly. 'They followed your trail to a forest a few hours away, and then the dogs apparently smelled Free Magic, and your trail ended. The scouts said they found some of your blood on the grass too, and they came to the logical conclusion.'

'Oh,' Arael said, a little guiltily. 'Sorry. I um… I didn't mean to worry you like that, but–'

'I'm just so glad you're alright!' Nehima interrupted, hugging her tightly again. 'I didn't want to believe it, but you know what the area around here can be like at night… I don't know how many people heard talk about the scouts' report last night, but Anstyr hasn't formally announced it yet. But what happened to you? Where were you?'

'I can explain later,' Arael replied. 'Right now, I need to talk to Anstyr quickly.'

'I don't think you will be able to,' Nehima answered, lowering her voice even more. 'He is currently getting the army ready to defend the city against three Free–'

'I know what's coming,' Arael interjected. 'Nehima, you know as well as I do that the army can't fight Free Magic. We don't know how.'

Nehima sighed sadly. 'I know that, but nobody is willing to just stand aside and let this sorcerer take the city.'

'He is not going to take the city,' Arael said firmly. 'Please, let me go. I need to talk to Anstyr right now!'

She finally managed to pull away from Nehima and carry on running down the corridor. If Anstyr was already with the troops, she had less time that she originally thought. Nehima shouted after her, but did not follow, Arael was relieved to see. The last thing she wanted was for her sister to add her typically sceptical comments when she was trying to convince her brother.

She raced down the remaining steps, and out of the palace, ignoring anyone who turned and stared at her as she passed them. The city streets were empty; clearly, a warning had been given earlier, and everyone who was not in the royal army was hiding in their homes. It was strange to see the usually-bustling city completely empty, but Arael was glad that there were no crowds to slow her down. The only sounds she could hear were voices coming from the main square, where the army was assembling, and Arael used them to find her way through the maze of streets until she saw the tell-tale sea of red and gold surcoats.

Anstyr was, predictably, at the front of the lines of soldiers, seated on his best horse and talking to Jored, the captain of the royal army. Arael rolled her eyes at the sight of the very rules-conscious captain, who was all too much like a male version of Nehima. As she approached them, Anstyr stopped talking in mid-sentence, forgetting what he had been about to say, and Jored stared at her – probably more in disapproval than amazement.

'Arael!' Anstyr exclaimed, quickly dismounting and hurrying over to hug his sister. 'Thank goodness you are alright.' He paused and let go of her. 'I am eager to hear exactly where you have been, what happened to you, and why you think it is acceptable to make us all worry like that, but it's going to have to wait for now.'

'Anstyr,' Arael interrupted. 'Don't go out and fight those sorcerers.'

The king held up a hand to cut her off. 'I know why you are saying that, sister,' he said, lowering his voice. 'But I have to defend my city and my people.'

'You don't have to send these men out. You know they will just die,' Arael replied. 'And the city _is_ defended.'

Anstyr folded his arms across his chest. 'By who?'

'Um… the Bright Shiners,' Arael answered, bracing herself for the inevitable comments about her stupidity.

'The what?'

'Ranna and her sisters...'

Anstyr stared at her in disbelief. 'Do you honestly think I am going to entrust the safety of my city to six Free Magic creatures?'

'Can't you just trust me?' Arael asked. 'They said they would defeat those sorcerers and their Hish easily.'

'You have been with them, haven't you?' said Anstyr sternly. Arael knew she didn't need to answer that. 'Go back inside, Arael. I don't want you getting hurt,' he added, re-mounting his horse.

'Why won't you trust me?' Arael asked, not moving from where she stood.

Anstyr looked down at her. 'Experience.'

Arael scowled up at him. 'Isn't there a chance that I might be right?'

'Yes,' Anstyr admitted, 'but I am not willing to take that chance.'

He started to walk his horse forwards, but Arael stepped in front of it, blocking its path. 'But you are willing to send these men out to their deaths? You know you can't fight Free Magic creatures, and they know it too.'

'They also know that it is their duty to protect this city,' replied Anstyr firmly.

'I have already told you!' Arael protested. 'They don't need to!'

'And I have already told you that I will not entrust the safety of my city to a group of Free Magic creatures!'

Before Arael could continue arguing, one of the guards on look-out duty nervously cleared his throat and looked down from his position. 'Um, Sire?' he said. 'You may want to have a look at this.'

* * *

_As I said earlier... please review! :D_


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